


Black and Blue, Inside and Out

by Phoenix1998



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, POV Alternating, POV Arthur, POV Merlin, POV Third Person, Physical Abuse, Plot Twists, Psychological Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 30,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1259818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix1998/pseuds/Phoenix1998
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin is kidnapped under the noses of King Arthur and the Knights they will face a long journey to rescue their silent saviour. Will they survive without their silent guardian? Secrets will be revealed and old wounds reopened...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on Archive of Our Own, so I'm sorry if I'm doing it really wrong :) I wrote this story a while ago and it is posted on fanfiction.net, same name, same pen name :) i really wanted to see if anyone liked this story so please enjoy :)

Merlin sat with the knights, watching as they laughed and joked. He longed to join them, to be free of his guilt and pain. But all he could think about was those that he had killed, or had died due to his decisions. How could he sit here and laugh whilst their families mourned?

Normally Merlin would use the good deeds he had done outweigh the bad, but today was different. It was 5 years today the his only love had been killed by his best, and closest, friend. He didn't blame Arthur really, he knew he should, but he couldn't bring himself to. Even after all of this time the pain still burned. It was almost reflective of the scar on his chest. But this pain had no mark. No scar to be seen. Just an indescribable burn, invisible to his fellows.

Each scar was a reminder to Merlin. A reminder of pain that was inflicted. They started small and could be mistaken as accidents of the clumsy manservant, that was displayed to all. But gradually they got larger, and wouldn't look out if place on a warrior. A large burn across his chest a reminder of how he cheated death. The sting of the serket the tore from his hip to just below his shoulder-blade, with dark tendrils spiralling across his pale back, remnants of the deadly poison.

But Freya; Merlin had no mark to bear for her. No reminders. Apart from the tiny scars he had received from Hailig. He had memorised them all. They were the little he had to show for his protection of Freya. How little it meant. He had failed. Failed her. But however much he had wanted to bring her back the cost would be a high one.

Merlin was so lost thought that he didn't notice the noises coming from in the woods. Didn't notice until the hilt of a sword was forcefully rammed into the back of his head rendering him unconscious. Before succumbing to the darkness he let a small cry. Hoping to be heard by his friends.

Friends. Those who he had guarded and protected. Losing so much for.


	2. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go guys, longer chapter two, sorry for any mistakes :)

The camp was quiet in the dark. Percival watched for signs of movement. There was no sign of Merlin, they had sent him to take care of the horses for them, but that was a little while ago. Percival assumed that Merlin was just grooming them, or trying to engage them in conversation. Merlin had a way with animals and he was the only one who could control Arthur's stubborn horse. Even Arthur struggled with him, the horse had a mind of its own and frequently wanted to go in the opposite direction to that which they were headed. But Merlin would simply dismount, from his own placid mare, and whisper in the stubborn horses ear, from then on he would go wherever they wanted. Percival believed Merlin promised him an extra carrot.

With no sign of trouble Percival began to drift into a light sleep, like the other knights. He fell into dreams of epic battles and challenging quests. His dreams also turned into those of his home, family and old life. They had passed through Ealdor on their hunt and Percival was reminded of his home. He missed the children who ran and played. Missed the friendly smiles and laughter. And most of all he missed his family. His life had been torn to shreds when Cenred's men had attacked his village. He had been a helpless child when they attacked, he and his best friend Lancelot had watched their village massacred. From that day on they had sworn to learn how to fight and defend innocents.  
Protect them is exactly what they had done. It was this goal that had changed their lives. They were now knights of Camelot. If someone had have told him that he would become a knight he would have laughed in their faces.

Merlin woke slowly with an ache in the back of his head. Ouch, that is going to bruise he thought. He tried to move his hand up to the wound but quickly found that his hands were bound tightly behind his back. He turned his head painfully to survey his surroundings. The warlock took in the sight of a fire and a small camp. But as he continued to turn his head he noticed there were more tents behind him. Just how many bandits had taken him? And then he cast his mind to Arthur, was he here? Merlin hoped not. He had been at the stream with the horses, just far enough away to appear alone. But he was alone with five horses, surely they had noticed he was not alone. Maybe they thought that he would not be missed as easily. This was the conclusion he came to as none of the knights were any where to be seen.

Merlin began to think up ways to escape, he could just cut the rope with his magic, but he didn't want to reveal that talent unless he had to. He could feel the slight pressure of the dagger he kept in his boot pressing into his ankle,but he couldn't reach it. Then Merlin remembered a trick that he and Will had practised as children. He carefully pulled himself into a crouched position and maneuvered his arms under his feet. This whole process was made harder by the fact that his feet were tied to. But he managed to, in a very undignified way, get his arms in front of him. Allowing himself a moment to rest after the strain he had just put his muscles through, Merlin retrieved the knife from his boot. With short well practised movements he cut through the ropes.

Within minutes the ropes fell away leaving his hands tingling. Then he began working on the ropes around his ankles. The knife caught the light of the fire and cast it off in all directions. This was the knife he always carried with him. In case of emergencies, it was the knife that his father had given his mother before he left. So that was Will and his father saving him tonight. Merlin forced down the pain of the guilt that flooded him for their deaths. He had to get away.

Dark thoughts crept their way into the young warlocks mind. What would the bandits do to him if he didn't escape? What would happen to him if he was to escape and be recaptured? Surely that would be worse? His mind tuned over the possibilities. He shuddered in the darkness. He was cold hungry and alone. Not the best way to happen upon a bandit camp. He watched the flames die down and felt the bonds around his ankles fall free. Finally he thought. His hands were numb form the cold metal of the hilt of the knife. But he was free. Slowly he straightened, the numb feeling spreading along his body, right to his toes. Silently he pushed the knife back into its sheath and put it back into his boot.

As he turned to run on stiff legs Merlin heard shuffling behind him. He turned and faced the bandit who had been on guard duty, getting ready to change shift.

Slowly he straightened, the numb feeling spreading along his body, right to his toes. Silently he pushed the knife back into its sheath and put it back into his boot.

Merlin hurried into the woods trying to evade the view of the bandit. This particular bandit was huge thought Merlin. Typical. He snuck through the trees past the bandit. The bandit didn't notice Merlin as he crept behind him. But on approaching the camp he noticed that Merlin was missing. He saw the cut ropes and quickly awoke the others.

Merlin ran. The chase was on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Please let me know and I'll put chapter 3 up tomorrow :)


	3. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go guys chapter 3, thanks to those who have read this :)

Merlin kept running, so fast he felt like he flew. He could hear the footfalls of the bandits. He magically sharpened his senses. It was best if he could know exactly what was going on. Rounding a corner Merlin heard a bandit slip, not believing his luck Merlin took the opportunity to climb a tall oak. Scaling the tree surprisingly quickly, Merlin looked below him. From his perch in the oak Merlin could see the bandits below him.

Merlin reflected on how surprised Arthur would be to find that Merlin had the ability to climb He probably thought Merlin to clumsy and useless to be able to. But the truth was Merlin was a great climber. Having been raise by a single mother had been difficult for them. Hunith tried her best but it was hard. With two hungry mouths to feed Merlin had to make up for the lack of meat on the table. Every week Merlin would take off into the woods for a few days and come home with some meat, almost always catching something. He would have to spend a lot of time hiding in trees, when pray was close but not close enough to kill, or hiding from predators, both magical and natural. Merlin was a good hunter, contrary to Arthur's belief. Most of the time Merlin faked his clumsiness on their hunts to annoy the prince or to scare of the animals closest to them. Whenever Merlin hunted, the meat and pelt was needed, Arthur did it for fun.

Merlin was brought back to his current surroundings when the loud shouts of more bandits could be heard. The others had caught up. Surveying the scene below him Merlin paused. How long would they not notice him for? He couldn't hide forever. He could use his magic. He could create false trails, but from this distance they may not have been as accurate as possible. But as long as they led them away, and gave Merlin a little time to escape, it could work.

Merlin glanced around the clearing, there was a small trail the overgrowth to the left of the clearing. Merlin's eyes glowed gold and he turned to face the right of the clearing. He caused a small wind to rustle the leaves and he turned his eyes to the floor as they were distracted and covered his footprints. The bandits ran over to the brush, looking through the bushes.

Seizing his chance Merlin scrambled down a few branches, but he knew he was moving to slow, the bandits would realise any second. Taking a chance Merlin jumped. Even from the height that he was at. Grunting slightly at the pain of the impact he rolled. Springing to his feet Merlin pushed against the wet ground and ran.

Running as fast as he could Merlin made a break across the clearing to the trail. He fought his way through a few thistle bushes, catching his hair and skin in the progress. Small beads of blood stick to the branches as they snapped when he ran past. The tree root came out of nowhere, it snarled around his ankle and pulled him to the floor. Crying out as he fell Merlin heard his ankle crack. Then he heard shouts coming from the clearing where he had been hidden. Merlin scrambled back to his feet and began to run again, mindful of his agonising ankle.

Merlin kept running and soon he came across a stream. Positive the bandits were far behind him, and probably lost, he began to set himself up a small camp. The bandits had no real reason to be following him. He had nothing belonging to them, nor was he worth any large value. He should be safe for now.

Merlin started a small fire with his magic and hobbled over to the stream. He sat down and pulled his sock and boot off. He gently placed his swollen foot into the cool water. Wincing slightly as the current pulled on his injuries. He needed to take the swelling down and then bind his foot. Merlin looked around him, there was nothing that he could really use as a bandage. Sighing Merlin reached up and loosened the neckerchief from around his neck, he wrapped it around the ankle with practised hands, being the physicians apprentice had some advantages. Hissing at the pain Merlin pulled his trouser leg over the make-shift bandage.

Merlin watched as a few rays of watery sunshine peered over the horizon. It was morning, finally. Merlin lay down and muttered a spell, causing the surrounding leaves to cover him. It was only a temporary solution but he needed rest and it would also provide some form of camouflage as well as conserve his body heat. With a few thoughts of home running through his mind, Merlin fell asleep.  
**********  
Arthur awoke when the sun started lighting the insides of his eyelids, he sat up opening his eyes only to be assaulted by light. Blinking like a disorientated mole he rubbed his face. How long had they overslept?

"Merlin..." groaned Arthur. "why didn't you wake us you great idiot? Its hours since daybreak! Where are you?" Arthur stumbled to his feet. "Merlin!" He looked around for the sight of the gangly warlock. He sighed, idiot thought Arthur.

"Wassumatter?" came a sound from the ground. Gwaine rolled over. "Why you shoutin' before breakfast?" It clearly bothered Gwaine that he was having to deal with this on an empty stomach. "Where's Merlin?"

"I don't know Gwaine, that's why I'm shouting. Honestly you are worse then Merlin sometimes." Arthur turned around and rolled his eyes.

"Sorry Princess. I just wanted to know how you managed to lose Merlin before breakfast."

"Gwaine what is with you and your bloody breakfast?" said Arthur, nodding at the other knights who had been roused from their sleep by the argument, to which they joined. "Has any one seen Merlin?" The knights shook their heads. "Ok then, who was the last person to see him?"

"That would be me" said Percival, raising his hand. "I saw him when I was on watch. He went out to water the horses and then he said he would ash the dishes in that stream." Percival pointed in the direction of the stream.

Arthur sighed again and walked over to the cooking equipment.

"No all of the pots are here and clean. He must have done those first. Lets check the stream, knowing the lazy idiot he probably fell asleep with the horses." They all laughed but there was a hint of concern there. They all cared about the warlock even if they weren't the first to admit it. Well all of them never really mentioned it, except Gwaine, but their relationship was clear for all to see.

The knights followed the tracks left by Merlin to the stream. They found themselves in a small clearing. The horses were tied to nearby trees, close enough to the water to drink but also close enough for them to eat some of the grass away from the banks. But there was no Merlin. Where was he?

"Uh, Arthur" said Gwaine, concern evident in his voice. He bent over and lifted up a small gem. It had come from a sword hilt. An expensive one at that. And it was covered in blood. Arthur rushed over to Gwaine and pulled the gem from his hand. Turning it over in his hand the king cursed. This blood was relatively fresh. Fresh as in last night.

"Oh Merlin, where are you?" breathed Arthur. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"

And then Arthur changed, he masked his shock and fear for his friend. He went into full blown King mode. And these people had angered him. They had taken something that he cared deeply about. Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think?
> 
> Phoenix


	4. Just His Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter four, sorry its late up :/

"Merlin!" yelled Arthur desperately. The sun was now at its highest point in the sky and his and the other knights stomachs were protesting. They had been searching since they had woken with little success. The footprints left behind by the bandits and also Merlin, had been washed away in the small rain shower they had experienced not long ago. They had decided that the kidnappers would take Merlin through small paths away from the prying eyes of watchers. Because of this fact and the dangerous conditions of the ground, not to take the horses.

"Arthur, we should stop for a while and eat. We're no good to Merlin with no energy." Leon said cautiously to the king, ever the voice of reason. "We need to think about our plan, we can not just keep walking until we stumble upon him. Let's think where they may have taken him and for what reason."

Arthur paused for a moment. He knew Leon was right, hell when was Leon not right, they should rest. But he didn't think that he could really bring himself to eat. Ever since they had woken to find Merlin missing, Arthur had been blaming himself. If he had of been on watch he would have waited for Merlin to return. But he couldn't keep blaming himself. They would just have to find Merlin and then it would all be alright.

"Yes, Leon, you're right we should rest. But not for to long I want to be on the move again as soon as possible. Merlin needs us."

The band of knights sat in a small circle and pulled out some rations from their packs. With no horse or Merlin to carry them, they had had to carry them themselves. Settling themselves down with a few mouthfuls of bread and lots of water the knights attempted to formulate a plan.

"Ok, let's get what we know already, straight. We know that Merlin was taken by the river. There were tracks left there before it rained. They were headed East. We followed those and they stopped at that small bridge over the river. We crossed that and we are now headed west because we are following the river. There would be no point in us going any further east because the only thing that way is the lake. Got it?" The knights nodded. Arthur continued. "So lets keep heading this way and see if we can pick up any tracks that the rain missed, OK?" there was a murmur of agreement through the knights and Arthur took it as full hearted approval. Standing up Arthur stretch and began to pack his belongings up.

Not ten minutes later all of the knights had followed his lead and they were once again walking, in a straight line parallel to the river.

*******

Merlin woke with a start, the sun was beating down on his crude shelter. It had just passed its fullest height and was burning hot. Merlin looked down at himself. He was soaking wet. The leaves which had been covered in mud, hand been miraculously cleaned and their previous mud now caked Merlin. Great, he thought looking down at himself. I missed a rain shower. Merlin sighed and looked around him, he must have been absolutely exhausted to have slept through that. He blamed it on the probably still present drug in his system.

He knew, even in his still groggy mind that he had to get moving. He was lucky no one had discovered him yet. Merlin looked over at the sparkling river longingly. Deciding that his need for water was more overwhelming then his need for cleanliness, he drank. As he drank a hawk peered down at him from one of the branches in a small tree. It had intelligent eyes, eyes that could locate its prey from high in the sky. Merlin had no idea that it was there until it shuffled its wings and flew off. He could have sworn he saw a leather band around its ankle*. Arthur sometimes used bids for hunting, their senses where more honed then most other animals, such as dogs. Arthur used to say to Merlin that if he were able to capture a merlin, that he would train it to hunt with him. It could replace a useless Merlin, with a hunter.

Snapping out of his little day dream, Merlin knew once again that he must find his way back. Arthur needed his protection. Gods knew that he could get himself into enough trouble. Smiling at the thought Merlin tried to recall the way that he had gotten here. Even though he had been unconscious for the most of it, Merlin could remember the sounds of a river and the sand crunched under the feet of the bandits as they dragged his over the bridge. To get back he needed to cross a bridge. Which is exactly what he did when he found one not far from his "camp".

Merlin also thought that the bandits would attempt to drag him away form the knights camp, for their own safety, that would mean that they had dragged him east. With this knowledge in mind he began to head west, back to the knights camp.

Merlin walked for what felt like, and probably was, hours. He kept heading west and wondered just how far the bandits had taken him. Thoughts of the knights filled his head, laughing at him for getting lost. The banter they shared always made him laugh and the witty insults kept his brain as fit as the servant work kept his body. It also strengthened their bond. Like him and Arthur he wasn't just a servant he was a friend, an equal.

That was the elation he was feeling as he saw the lights up ahead. He could hear joking and laughter as he neared it. Wait, laughter. Merlin had been missing for a day and they were laughing? Sure, Merlin could understand if not all of the knights were looking for him. Some had to stay at camp. But he never thought that they could laugh like that with him missing.

Merlin quickened the pace that he was walking at and soon reached the outskirts of the camp. The camp wasn't theirs Merlin realised with a jolt. He had just walked up to a, possibly hostile, camp. Did he learn nothing from quests with Arthur? Turning on his heal, Merlin began to move away. But as he did he heard the swish of an arrow. The last thing he thought after a bolt of pain shot through his shoulder was, At least they weren't laughing without me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Thank you so much for reading :) 
> 
> Phoenix


	5. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys here you go, sorry there was a delay between chapters my exams have been busy :)  
> Enjoy

Merlin fell to his knees.

The pain in his shoulder was spreading along with his blood. His blue shirt had been soaked through and was turning a dark crimson colour. Merlin gripped the bolt tight in his hand and pulled. It came loose from his shoulder with a sickening noise.

Leon had always preferred to use the crossbow to a normal bow. Because of this Merlin had made it his mission to find out about the crossbow, in case he ever came up against one or Leon missed.

He noted, though how accurate his brain was he wasn't sure, that the strength at which it had hit him meant that it was at the upper end of its range. The shooter must be more that 390 yards away. The arrow was of a finer make than most bandits could make or steal. With these facts Merlin could tell he was dealing with either rogue soldiers or soldiers that were sent to Camelot. They also told him that he needed to run. So he did. He clutched at his shoulder and ran. The blood poured from the wound as he threw the bolt down behind him. Merlin began to feel light headed from the blood loss and the lack of food that he had eaten the last day and a half.

"Hæle" he whispered. He felt his eyes glow gold and the pain receded a little. The wound had not healed completely but it was closed enough to not kill him from bleeding out. He cursed himself for focusing so long on cleaning spells and not looking into healing magic. That could have been useful. At least he had something to do when he got back to Camelot.

The footfalls behind him sped must be foot soldiers. They were gaining on him quicker and quicker. Merlin stumbled and fell on his already injured ankle. He felt his legs give way beneath him.

"Regroup!" came Arthur's voice through the trees. The knights had split up to look for the missing manservant. It had taken them hours to get this far with their thorough combing of the thick woodland. The knights had finished their meal and drawn up a map. It showed where they had last seen Merlin and where he could have possibly been headed.

They had followed the river and found no sign of Merlin. The knights had had to bring up the fact that if Merlin had indeed been captured where would they take him. The river would be the ideal path to follow. They could make stops all along the river to camp and had a constant water and food supply. The river also led to two lakes. One further north and the other was north east of the castle.

The prints that they had found at the riverside had been headed east. Then they had crossed the river. From there, there were two paths they could have taken north or west, as it was unlikely they would travel to the lake to the east. It was too close to the mountains and a village was very near. The knights had gone west, so as to follow the river. There had been no real sign for hours so the only choice they had now was to head north to join the other river. So that was what they did.

The next thing Merlin knew there was a man looming over him. He was grinning like the cat that got the cream. His grey eyes were flicking over Merlin's face. He knew this man. He had visited Camelot on business of a foreign king's court. He had looked very shifty to Merlin, who was always on the lookout for infiltrating sorcerers and threats to the kingdom. Merlin knew that he was the cities first line of defence. Even if it was unknown to the king.

The knight looked into Merlin's eyes long and hard. His teeth had bits of rotting food in them. His gums were pale and his teeth yellow and rotting. His breath smelt of putrid meat and the small beard that was growing on his chin had clumps of food in as well. The beard didn't cover his whole chin though. It was absent in the place where a long, pale scar ran down his cheek. The feathery texture of his beard made it look like a half plucked bird. He had a large bulbous nose that was read and his neck was sweating. The gleam could also be seen on his forehead. This man was in charge. He was not one of those chasing Merlin and catching him up. He had run in after.

Merlin's head snapped back as the sweaty knight slapped him hard across the face. The sting left Merlin spluttering for a moment.

"The King's manservant! I'm sure that my liege can make good of that. I'm sure that she will get some information out of you. I know that you will probably have some questions as well, boy." he imitated the voice of small girl. "Who is your liege? What do you want? I'm just a servant. What are you going to do to me? Don't hurt me!" he stuck his bottom lip out. "I can tell you that you will be introduced to my liege very shortly. She will be most pleased to see you. Meet you. Get to know your darkest fears." His voice was croaky and sounded hoarse like he only used it in emergencies, or to yell constantly, either would do it. As he spoke bits of saliva flew from his mouth, flecking Merlin's face.

The knight turned around and began to walk away. Merlin muttered darkly.

"Good luck with getting into my head, I'm sure she had no trouble getting into your thick skull. Or maybe she just tried to find any thought worth listening to" The knight tensed. He swung around.

"What did you say to me boy! Did you insult my liege?!"

Merlin winced as the meaty fist came into contact with his face again. He felt the warm blood trickle down his. Why did he have to comment?

"I should cut out your tongue. I would if it wasn't needed to tell my mistress the secret of the kingdom. I'm sure that she wouldn't mind if you were... a little roughed up. She would not have to spend so long tendering you up then. She can get straight to the juicy bits. And when I say juicy I mean, the part when she rumbles around in your brain." he stuck his bottom lip out again. "To see your little thoughts" Merlin began to pull away as the beefy knight wondered slowly over to where another knight held Merlin with his arms pinned behind his back.

"Did you hear him boys? He insulted our mistress. The one who SAVED us. How can we let this pass?"

The knights around him clearly agreed with him they gathered around him. Slowly one advanced.

"Wait..." said the first Knight, Merlin silently named him Bill, Bill the Boss. Great, I'm naming my captors. "He needs to be in a good enough shape for our ladies fun. And her guest."

The knights nodded clearly this guest was important to these men. For them to reign in their apparent anger.

Merlin looked down. His eyes glanced around the leaf strewn ground. He then cast a well-practised spell to numb his body. It was one of the first ones that he had learned to perform in Ealdor. It saved him from the pain that the beatings he had been given by the boys. His eyes flashed gold as Merlin blinked, hiding his eyes from view. He sighed and resigned himself to fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I hope you're liking the story so fat and let me know :) 
> 
> Phoenix


	6. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I started posting this story, from my phone in art lessons, but alas, exam season is here and these are my GCSEs....:/ oh dear God, ummm yeah :) Enjoy

**Beta'd by Vixxster2942**

Merlin opened his eyes and squinted at the advancing knights. They were grinning; clearly they were unused to their captives with standing this long. But Merlin knew he would not last much longer the numbing spell wore off and he would succumb to the pain. Many of the men's fists were bloody and Merlin bore the marks of their targets.

The rouges pulled him forward to a barrel. Merlin caught sight of his reflection in the water. He had bruises blooming all over his face but they were mostly concealed by the blood that was slowly leaking from wounds just below his eye. The man who had hit him, if you could call him a man; more like a bear than human, had been wearing a ring. A large expensive ring. The cut was still bleeding despite being about half an hour old. It was very deep and would most probably scar. Merlin didn't have time to think about that as his head was plunged below the icy water. He struggled as the water hit his injuries. The spell had worn off. Merlin tried to scream, he tried to fight but the men held his hair tight. Just as his vision began to blur and thoughts of his Freya floated into his mind, they yanked his head up. Laughter filled his ears. Not happy laughter or joy. No this was laughter of mad men. Men who took pleasure in hurting another.

Merlin gasped for air and, despite the shock of the cold water that had him trembling all over, the water had removed some of the blood. The cut on his cheek also felt numbed and he felt re-energised. But his temporary relief was taken from him as his, now clear, vision was blocked by a massive man. He knelt down before Merlin's trembling form. He looked into his eyes and Merlin looked into his. They were like pits. Black pits filled with rage and also... was that an ounce of fear?

"You should respect our liege, she is a saviour and you... you are nothing to her. You are lucky that she didn't want her plaything dead. Or you would be. Do you understand me boy?!" Merlin made no movement. "I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!" He pulled Merlin to the fire where he pulled out a burning stick. If there was one thing Merlin feared it was the fire. It was an unpredictable force and it was changing. Not to mention the constant threat of a burning pyre. The black souled knight brought the stick to Merlin's face and held it before his eye. Silence rung through the clearing, Merlin made to nod but the man was quicker. He pressed the burning stick into the manservant's face.

The smell of burning flesh polluted the air. The silence was shattered as Merlin screamed; a scream that was full of a pain that said he had had enough. Although the burn itself was very small the evil man had pushed it into the damaged flesh on the warlocks face. He had also made sure that the end of the burn touched the cut. That was the main source of the pain.

The knight lifted the stick and prodded the fire with it, as if nothing has happened. The sparks flew from the fire, scattering out across the dried leaves. They singed and coiled in on themselves, much like Merlin felt like doing. They let off dark smoke but then died out. Pulling the stick from the fire again he brought it once again before Merlin's face. He leant down again level to the warlock. He breathed onto the stick, feeding the dying spark with oxygen, small sparks jumped at Merlin's face and sunk into his skin. He flinched and whimpered.

"Good" The knight turned away from Merlin. He relaxed slightly in the grip of the guards. And then the Black Knight swung his whole body around to Merlin. His fist curled and a few milliseconds behind him. The large meaty fist landed on Merlin's face, directly under his eye. Merlin's head lolled and he sunk into unconsciousness.

* * *

The knights had been walking for hours again. This time though they knew they were getting close. They knew this, but they were unsure why. A strange feeling that they all had. Merlin had come this way; it was as though he had left a part of himself here. It was like he had imprinted himself all around them. Or they could just be desperate. That was more likely. Desperate to hide their guilt, or at least ease it.

They had been following the parallel river for a long time and they had drawn to a stop when Percival noticed something. A scuff mark in the wet mud. It was like someone had fallen. Or tripped. Merlin! There was also dried blood on the leaves and branches were broken and falling off of their trees. Only a runner could make those. So Merlin had been fleeing.

Percival looked back at the small trail behind them. It would have gone unnoticed if they had not been looking specifically for it; it would have produced a perfect escape route for Merlin if he had indeed been captured. They should follow the trail to the source, then maybe they could find his captors. But they should also follow the path ahead. Continue the search.

"Sire," Percival said, "The trail leads back through there. If we were quick we could catch up with Merlin's captors. Maybe they re-captured him. Of course only if these tracks are his." No one had really thought of this possibility. They needed to find Merlin. They wiped any doubt that they were not Merlin's tracks from their minds.

"We should carry on Percival," said Leon, "We have to try and catch up with Merlin." He led them to the scuff marks. "This fall would have injured him severely enough to slow him down. He is in further danger the longer he is out here alone. Maybe we should leave the captors alone for now. If it rains again we could lose Merlin's tracks." Percival nodded. But the King looked strained. He clearly wanted to go back to get the people who had hurt his friend but his friend was more important at the moment.

"Leon is right, Percival, we should follow Merlin. Gods only know where he is and how much trouble the idiot has gotten himself into. We should also hurry. The sky is clouding and we could lose his trail." Percival nodded.

The Knight's began searching the surrounding bushes and areas for prints and found a single set crossing the river. The knights followed them, like a ghost of Merlin. Following his movements. Walking alongside the footprints left by the gangly warlock and friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so what did you think? I'd like to hear your comments so I can improve :)


	7. Bandits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm right in the middle of my gcses now...pretty sure I should be stressed, anyway I probably will post another chapter soon :) enjoy

The prints that they were following became clearer as they walked away from the river. They were walking north again but the ground was still retaining the imprint of Merlin's tracks. Where the earth was becoming drier, like sand, the prints were more distinguishable from animal tracks.

All of the knights were beginning to feel the strain in their necks as they were looking down constantly, eyes scanning the ground. A slight scuffle in the tracks were showing to the knights that their missing servant was limping, or at least dragging his leg behind him, in some places there was indication of a stick being used as support. All along the trail spots of blood clung like little globes to the branches, shining in the dwindling light like rubies.

Arthur was drowning in his guilt. The knights were also still feeling the guilt but theirs was considerably less than the kings. He could never forgive himself if the young man died. He had dragged him to the hunt, despite his protests. He had forced him to feed the horses, to stay out late. He fell asleep before guaranteeing the manservant was back.

They were moving fast but a silence weighed down on them, like a ton of bricks. No one wanted to talk. What would they say? How could anyone think of anything but Merlin, but they couldn't bring it up in a conversation. It would increase their guilt by tenfold.

So they walked.

Just kept going. Eyes down. Focused.

They would find him. No matter what. They had to.

Merlin woke up from his pained daze. Hands tied, wrists bruised. The sting on his cheek burned still. Apparently, as he found no further injury to his person, as soon as he had fallen unconscious the knights had left him. His hands had been re-tied and were now feeling bruised. They were tingling painfully indicating they had been tied for some time. Not long enough to show absolute blood loss though he must have been showing signs of waking earlier for them to have been tied so tightly. Well he was awake now, he should probably try to get out of this mess. And quickly, while the only sign of a guard was a sleeping silhouette outlined by the firelight.

It was still dark, that either meant that it was the same night or he had remained unconscious until the next morning. He hoped it was the former. It would mean he had been held for less time. Less time for them to torture him. That was what it was, torture. He had no information that they wanted, it was entirely for their pleasure.

He was also incredibly keen to know who their liege was. Knowing his luck it would be someone nasty. Oh Gods. What if it was Morgana? He was positive that he could not withstand her torture. And methods of persuasion. She wouldn't be able to contain herself, not even for Merlin, her once friend. The thought of their friendship made Merlin shiver. How could the wonderful kind-hearted woman he had known grow into this. Monster. He missed Morgana, the old Morgana. She was another of Merlin's failures that had caused pain and havoc. What is he hadn't of turned his back? Had she meant that little to him?

In his contemplation he missed the movement behind him, in the corner of his eye. He heard it though, and barely had time to attempt to turn before the hand pulled him up. The chances of escape had been snatched from him by his own self-loathing. It was Bill who had him by the scruff of his neck. Bloody neckerchief. The putrid smell of his breath was hot in Merlin's ear. And his face was uncomfortably close. There was an elbow in his ribs, digging in, but not in a way that completely caused him to lose his breath.

"Awake then." It was not a question but a statement. He had something planned, he had that tone. The confident assured tone of a leader. However along with the calm voice there was a taint of... fear. A power above him was pulling the strings. It was fear that drove him. And it was one of the things that scared him.

Merlin knew that they had something new for him. Pain most probably. Or maybe just a little chat. No it would be the former, definitely.

"We have a surprise for you, servant." Merlin winced. Brilliant. "Someone for you to meet, and even better she has a friend with her." How could this get worse? "And there is no one here to help you with the introductions. You're on your own so make a good impression."

He dragged Merlin to his feet and pushed him forward. His laced boot caught on a loose rock that lay on the ground. Merlin felt his body lunge but he was supported by the meaty hand of the leader. An unwanted support. The hand guided him through the trees, Merlin was cautious of the roots sticking out of the ground. The light began to fade as they walked away from the main fire and Merlin was lead into a side camp, adjacent to the other. The tents were standing proudly in the moonlight, many with towering flags fluttering in the wind. There were guards standing outside of one of the tents. Someone of great importance to these men must be inside.

Merlin's curiosity would soon be sated as the tent flap flew open

Darkness pressed down on the knights with an uncertainness that was silently killing them. They knew now that they were on the right track as through the day they had been following a set of soft boot treads. But the knights knew, also that if their wayward friend had indeed gone straight this way then they were at least a day behind. The only way that they could close the gap and hopefully preserve the prints would be to speed their pace up. They could not do this however, if they did their overall speed would decrease, they would lose sleep. Their energy would dwindle and all rescue attempts would be futile.

So once again they began to set up the camp. It was becoming a horrid regularity. The silent hole left by Merlin was not possible to fill with any form of conversation. It was as if they had already lost him. There was always one pillar of hope though. Throughout their entire search and rescue mission, Gwaine had been there. Not his usual happy self but he was the least sombre. The one who kept them alive. He had somehow managed to pull the mood up from around their boots and tweaked a small smile out of the king himself.

The fire cast out light in all directions and it lit up the crannies of the camp. Illuminating the horses and casting shadows at all angles from small objects. The knights kept their heads down as Percival walked over to stoke the fire. They raised their heads slightly as he began gathering pots. Percival, as it turned out, was the best cook out of all of the knights. He made a wicked broth and it went well with anything that they managed to scavenge or hunt on their long walk. They watched as he slowly took out his hidden knife and began gutting a rabbit. Then he poured some of the water from their skeins into the pot. After cutting up the now clean rabbit carcass, he placed the pieces in a second dry pot and listened to the sizzle of the cooking meat. When it began to turn grey he placed it in the water pot and added some herbs. Then he added the fats from the cooking meat and placed a lid on the pot. The knights watched his every move tentatively.*

The silence in the clearing was punctuated every now and then by the boiling of the watery stew. Or the occasional pop of a log on the fire. It was as though the usual flow of conversation, jokes and laughter had been stemmed, like a dam cutting off their happiness. It was because of this silence and the unnatural stillness, however, that they heard it. The sound of steel being drawn from its scabbard. Metal on leather.

The battle instincts of the warrior kicked in almost instantly. They swung around, each grappling for their own swords. The light reflected menacingly across the camp as the blades caught the gaze of the fire.

Arthur lunged first, straight at the man who had drawn his sword behind them. It was then that the group noticed the presence of several other men in their clearing. All of them swords raised. The silence was cut, quite literally as the blades met. Battle-hardened warrior on rough bandit. There was no need for introductions, their clothes spoke enough of their belittled status. They were worn and sported many cut and holes, they hung loosely of their frames, much like those of a scarecrow. And their faces were unkempt. But their weapons. They were fit for knights. In fact they were most probably those of knights.

The attack on the camp of the knights of Camelot might have been unexpected but there was no denying the bandits stood no chance. Arthur's blade was not the only one coated in crimson. The knights had utterly squashed the resistance of the bandits. And the few that remained fit enough to stood soon took to their heel in flight. Elyan kept one pinned under his blade and called the king over to him. He could decide what to do with him. Arthur walked calmly over to the bandit and crouched next to him, bringing his own face on a level with his.

"Kill me then you coward!" he spat in the kings face, alighting outrage in the knights. However they were calmed with a gesture from their king.

"No, I want to know something first."

"Then you shant'ever know"

"Fine then, Elyan." Arthur gestured to the knight who quickly pulled the bandit to his feet, backing him up against a tree. The sword tip was pushed against the dent in the bandits throat.

"Have you seen a servant, tall, gangly and unhealthy looking?" the bandit smirked slightly. But it came out as more of a grimace. Arthur dug the tip of his sword deeper, drawing blood. He whimpered.

"Y-yes and 'e'll be dead by now. We had 'im. Lovely guest, until 'e ran for it. We followed 'im... well for a while. We lost 'im after a while longer. Took some sor' of path towards the river. That one back there," he nodded, as much as he could with his restricted head, in the direction of the river. "then we really did loose 'im. We 'eard the disturbance of you lot earlier and thogh' it were 'im. Then we saw your fire. You gonna le' me go now?" he raised an eyebrow questioningly. Arthur considered for a moment and then nodded to Elyan. Withdrawing the sword from his throat Arthur watched as Elyan let the bandit go. Then something hit Arthur. Hard.

He ran up to the bandit and tackled him to the floor.

"What did you mean he's probably dead now. What did you filthy pigs do to him?"

"Oh don't you just want to know." He teased. Arthur rolled off of the bandit but kept one leg on him, effectively pinning him. Before Arthur could continue his interrogation the bandit reached into his sleeve, pulling out a vile of a green looking potion. He swallowed it in one before the king could move a muscle to stop him. The knights watched as the man's eyes faded and he died.

* really really bad way of cooking, don't try this at home guys you may kill someone, if the meat is grey then throw it out... rant over i couldn't think as to what he could cook... :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? Thanks :)


	8. Liege

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go.guys, enjoy

The tent flap fluttered as though in a breeze. A shadow flickered behind the canvas of the wall, even the silhouette seemed to flicker in itself as though in was cast by a guttering candle. A pale hand snaked through the gap and grasped at the ruby fabric. The ghostly fingers spiderlike in their curl. Subtle changes in the guard, would have been a clue to the presence of another even if the eyes of the entire camp was not on the tent. It had captured their attention. The tension was subtle, but there, in everybody.

The flap was tugged open and a small foot stepped out. Small was the word. There was no other way to describe it. All was gradually made clearer when the body followed. It was a child. And yet the way she held herself and the respect that was almost visible in the air, surrounded her. Grown men seemed to shiver in her presence, crumple around her.

Merlin could feel the evil radiating from her. It should not have that effect, a child should be joyful, pure and free. None of these could be felt near the Child. Bound without chains she walked rigidly, her actions were not hers. Following the command not of her heart but the voices. Or so Merlin believed until her icy eyes swung around, fixing him in an inescapable beam. They had depth beyond their time, Darkness dwelling in their pools. A power lurked in her, waiting to be unleashed upon an unsuspecting soul.

Merlin couldn't move, he couldn't breath. He was completely frozen. Her advantage obvious. The little girl walked slowly towards him. Every step bring the cold feeling closer to him. The temperature seemed to drop. Their breaths steamed in the air. It had not been warm, but now it was freezing.

The footfalls could be heard hollowly through the ground. Before he knew it the girl was upon him, her hand outstretched.

The snowy fingers laced themselves around Merlin's high cheekbones. Pressing down on his blistering skin, providing slight relief for him, but it was short lived as she began to dig her finger in. Deeper and deeper like an icicle, until it drew a droplet of crimson blood. The blood ran down her finger and began to pool in the web like skin between her fingers. Gently she lowered her hand and poked out a delicate tongue, it glanced over the blood, taking it in. Then she looked up into Merlin's eyes. And he watched in horror as her eyes turned a fiery red.

The scream that was torn from Merlin rang on for several seconds. The moment the blood had reached its way into the Child's mouth, Merlin had begun to feel the stab in his mind. A probe of ice. He hastily threw a shield around his mind unaware that the assault would continue. The pits of hell shone through the eyes of an eight year old girl. The smile that graced her lips was akin to that of a demon. Another attack on his mind was launched, this time with the force of a battering ram. The hasty defences collapsed like parchment under the wind. And her presence flooded into his mind, like boiling wax.

Arthur's mind was reeling. What had they done to him. How could anyone be heartless enough to not only kidnap but torture an unarmed servant? What could he offer? How would they get it? No he had to stop this again. No amount of guilt could save Merlin. If anything the seed of guilt could grow in them all turning them against themselves.

Arthur could be sure that nobody slept that night. How could they? The body of the bandit lay a few meters away. No one could even think about burying the body of a man who could have been responsible for tormenting Merlin. It repulsed them. Then he thought of where Merlin had gone from the dreadful camp, why didn't he come home?

He tossed over again, now resting on his side, glancing towards the path were they were following the prints on. They would find him.

That was the collective thought of the drowsy knights. They would find him.

Hopefully they would be in time.

Another scream bubbled through his pale lips. The mind probe assaulting him again. This time- through the pain and the concentration of trying, miserably, to rebuild the shield- images burst through. Memories. In short flashes Merlin was blasted with senses.

He could smell the grass as he ran with Will. Heat their laughter. Running from the clouds.

Blistering jolts were sent through him. Blinding pain.

The wind blew through their hair, pulling slightly. A raindrop fell.

A tear hit Merlin's nose, warm, but easily mistaken for the icy raindrop.

It splattered on his eye, collecting in his eyelashes. "You crying Merlin?". Will. Laughing.

The pain seared on.

An arrow whizzed past Merlin's eyes. Catching Will in the back. Blood mixed with the rain. It cascaded.

"NO! It never happened like that!" Merlin screamed. The smell of searing flesh was nearly apparent. The Child grinned.

Years had passed Merlin was now a young man. The witch pulled out her dagger and threw it at the table. throwing it at Arthur's heart. Merlin in mid run, slowed time saving him.

The Child frowned and Merlin re-watched the memory. Her eyes flickered in realization. She knew. She was watching. It began to dawn on Merlin that the blood, the fake memory...it was her. She was...getting to know him. Again Merlin tried to rebuild a defence. He had to defend his memories.

He needn't have bothered though. Within moments of her realisation the girl had removed any contact with Merlin. She had struck gold, to mine it effectively she had to plan. Had to exploit all of him. And she had a, soon to come, visitor. The fun would be doubled when shared. And then for the first time she spoke. Her voice clear and innocent.

"Drug him. He is of magic, and restrain him properly. I do not want to have to round him up again. Anyone who I believe to have failed in any aspect concerning... him will be punished as I see fit. Understood?" The entire camp nodded as one, like they were under a spell.

With a flap of her dress the small girl walked, a lot less rigidly than before, back to the tent. Before she could enter, Merlin whispered,

"Who are you?"

"I am Ceara." she replied, unwavering. Before re-entering the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go :)

Arthur lifted his head from his hands. The slight stubble on his chin scraped over the soft skin in the palms of his hands. It caught the light and glowed golden in the morning light. The dew in the trees glinted in the suns glare, light poured through their leaves, tinted green. It was easy to forget the horrors that his best friend may be suffering, how he may be in a ditch somewhere, discarded when his captors found out about his lack of usefulness. Little did Arthur know that he was useful, not just for his friendship with the King.

The knights were beginning to lose hope. It had been days since they had seen their friend. They had no further leads as to where he was, save from the fading trial left by his captors. They could be following the wrong trail, or the lowlifes that had taken Merlin had killed him and moved on. The tracks could be from the captors after dumping Merlin. Anything could have happened.

It struck the knights that despite the lack of sleep they had been having, or rather not having, they were still at least a day behind Merlin. They had to ride slowly to keep to the trail, eyes always down. Arthur blamed himself for the days or mores gap, the lag that they had should not have been possible. He should have looked out for his defenceless friend.

The camp was broken by the knights not long after they had woken. As usual, in silence. The knights had hardly spoken to each other, apart from to tell the others about the trail. Much of the journeys between camps had been strained. Gwaine had lost his joyful spark and Percival had lost some of his mischievous nature. The tension occasionally melted as they forgot what had happened for a moment. Once Arthur had woken from a fitful sleep and called out for Merlin. Everyone had turned and looked for the banter, the friendship. The mood plummeted from there.

The trail was fading ever quicker and Arthur was losing hope in their tracking skills. Merlin would definitely be in need of their help, because when was Merlin not? The time in the camp seemed strange. It was passing to quickly but also not quick enough. The daylight hours they could be looking for Merlin in, were gone as fast as a fluttering pixie. And yet the hours at night when all they could do was rest, the time slid by, barely fast enough to beat a snail.

Arthur felt as though a chasm had been opened up within him. His very soul ached for the other half of itself. Its brother was not with him, they were separated. The tug that was in his gut telling him about Merlin was getting weaker. It was always there, a link to him. It often became pained when Merlin was in trouble or about to be. There was a time before Merlin came that Arthur felt incomplete and unfinished. The arrogance and temper that he was renowned for was lie a fire without water to keep it in check. In fact Merlin was always the calm one, always the one with cool, clear reason on his side. Whenever the fire within Arthur threatened to hurt anyone it was calmed by the ocean in Merlin. His rock.

Merlin bit down on his tongue as the child's mind left his. The pain was phenomenal, his mind was fogged though. She had clearly followed through on the promise of a magic subduing drug. He had never heard of anyone who could alter memories like that. Let alone a child. How was this young girl so twisted that she could do that? Why was she doing it? For Merlin had met her eyes for a brief second and in that moment he saw the pleasure and wonder. She was enjoying toying with him.

The guards were nowhere in sight and he was no longer outside. The decorations of the room he was in were minimal, the only sign of habitation were scratches down the walls. The ceiling dripped slowly with water and it dripped into a small puddle by the door. The wood his prison was made of smelt rotten and musty. Yet they were sturdy, as prove by Merlin's strong kick to the he wooden wall. It was a caravan. The sort that travellers or slave captors used. The magic that he always felt in his body, the same magic that send the life force through his blood and caused his skin to tingle, was just out of his reach. The flow was... interrupted before it could reach his mind. The gap it created was gaping. It was a massive hole inside of his very soul. His one force tying him to the earth was currently severed. He could feel his strength waning.

Ceara sat at the elm table that had been placed inside of her war tent. She called it that, not because she used it at war but because this is where she met the warlords with whom she wished to make acquaintance with, or where she plotted to bring them down.

The young child had been brought up with an old witch on the outskirts of Cenred's kingdom, just within Camelot's borders. For her entire life her adoptive grandmother had been shunned, persecuted and pursued through many towns and cities on her travels. It was not the witchcraft that turned her bitter but the reaction that people had to it. They treated her with the monstrosities resevered for the criminals of the world. Punished by citizens for the wrong doing of others. That was before the Purge. After and during the Purge it had been almost impossible to hide and remain alive. The vendetta towards any with the gift was strengthened tenfold. The grief for their Queen drove them forward in their hate. It was never a rare sight to see a sorcerer atop the pyre or the smell of burning flesh as you entered a town.

That was not the only thing that weighed upon the guardians shoulders. It had been her fault the Purge started. Well in a way it had been her fault, but she was still blamed for it and she blamed herself. The downfall of magic was at the consequence of a friendly gesture.

She had once been a lady in waiting in the royal household, under the reign of Uther. The woman had been of a respectable age, around forty. She was nearing sixty when she took in Ceara, or nearer to that then fifty. She was old enough to be viewed as a respectable person, not quite and elder but she had a wise head on her shoulders. She was not just any maid though she was a maid to the Queen herself. Had been since her youth, in the early days when the Queen had been Lady Ygraine de Bois she was her personal maid and friend. The relationship between them was secret, as it was an unknown concept to have a friend in a lower class to she. It had been her who had introduced her to Nimueh.

On that fateful day it was unknown to her that she would have anything to do with the death of her friend. In the time that Ygraine knew Nimueh, there was a bond formed between them. The friendship between the witch and Queen-to-be flourished and was open to the world. Maybe that was why Ceara's grandmother had felt left out, alone in the dark.

Many years later her grandmother married into a higher class family. She had found love in a close friend of the Pendragons. He was her knight in shining armour, they soon shared in the joys of a child together. But not long after the child's first week in the world she was contacted by a high priestess, and was forced to give her child over to the witches. She had been chosen, the magic ran through her veins.

Finally when she built up the courage to introduce Ygraine and her husband, she met Uther. For Ygraine it hadn't been love at first sight, in fact they started off as friends, and then became lovers. It only took a few months of courting for Uther to realise that Ygraine was the one before he proposed. He was the young King of Camelot, and she was his pillar of strength.

In their time together the lady in waiting tended the Queen in most ways, each of them shared stories of their knights and they grew closer again. Nimueh was included as well but the visiting sorceress visited Camelot very little.

In the time she had with the Queen she had changed her view on the King. He was no longer the unreachable imposing figure he always had been, he was now... desirable to her. So one day when her husband was away fighting on the account of Uther, she was surprised to see the King at her door. It was previously unknown to her that Ygraine had also spoken to Uther about her. In the cold night of that winter they found the love they had been missing for a while. It was something new. The affair lasted a few months and the maid fell pregnant.

When the Queen, who was growing older, finally realised her inability to have children, it was her ever faithful lady in waiting who suggested they contact Nimueh. Nimueh arrived promptly and asked permission to perform the spell that would enable Ygraine to conceive. The permission was granted and the pregnancy went smoothly. The pregnancy was coinciding with the kings other child. Each supported the other throughout and Ceara's guardian had her second child a few months before Ygraine.

That was when it all happened. The Queen was ripped from them by the misjudged actions of Nimueh. That was when the Purge started. The magic that bubbled within her was at risk of being discovered. To protect her young daughter she had to leave her with her step-father. That was when the Lady Vivienne ran from Camelot, from her love Gorlois and her daughter Morgana.

And nearly sixteen years later she found a babe in the woods, left for her magic. Her little Ceara.

Ceara had been told stories of Morgana, Morgause and Gorlois. The events of the Purge was forced into the stories as well, and her young mind developed a dislike of the throne of Camelot and its associates. It had caused hurt to her grandmother who had taken her in from the cold. Raised her like the children she had lost, and loved her like her own.

All beliefs that she had formed against the Pendragons and Camelot were strengthened when one day. The day that the knights came.

Ceara had been playing in the flowers in the fields near their cottage, on a spring day. The first thing she heard were the beats of horses hooves. They pounded the ground and make it shake. Cracks spread from the dried land. These knights were not like the ones in her grandmother's stories. These knights had cruel grimaces on their faces, they were out for the blood of a sorcerer.

The little girl ran through the tall grass back past the winding stream that marked the boarder-line and dashed to the little stone cottage. As she reached it she could see she was too late. The house was in flames. She could hear screams from inside and she watched as the knights entered and roughly pulled her grandmother out. She was kicked to the floor and each knight took his turn in beating her. The screams were deafening, but not loud enough to cover the crunch of boots against bone. Not loud enough to mask the cracks as they broke

Ceara stood and watched, unable to move as she watched her grandmother in pain, writhing. For a moment she fell still and Ceara thought it was over. Silently she sobbed, trying to keep herself from running into the fray. But then the figure on the floor moved. Four knights walked to the witch and pulled her up. They walked her to the fence that surrounded the cottage and pulled up a wooden stake. Then they carried it to the door in the burning house. With a force Ceara had never seen before they pushed it into the ground. It drove in and stuck it fast. They hurried out before they were burnt.

With a burn in their eyes that should never be in any humans eye, crackled on. The shined armour glinted in the firelight as they dragged her grandmother to the post, withdrawing some rope and tying her to the stake. The old woman fought as well as she could in her bloody state, but the struggles ceased in a few minutes. Whether she stopped from exhaustion or the she accepted defeat Ceara never knew, but the next thing she heard were the screams.

Blood-curdling screams that ripped her throat and shredded the listeners ears. The fire ate ate her skin melting it and causing hissing sounds through the pain filled screams. The knights of Camelot watched on and she could have sworn that she heard chants of "burn witch burn". A few spat at her walked away.

That was the day Lady Vivianne burned, and Ceara le Fay had her heart sealed against Camelot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think, did I go too far with Ceara? Thanks for reading


	10. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to upload all of the chapters I have, so enjoy :) xxx

Ceara walked over to her bed and laid her pale face down. She had never had any form of maid or helper. Vivienne and herself had lived in poverty, keeping as low a profile as possible. That coupled with the stories told from her grandmother's youth, left her no desire for a maid now. If she had have had a maidservant. Ceara would be looking for a friend in her. However she could never hope to be friends with someone forced into service to her.

 

Almost as soon as her head hit the fluffy depths of her pillow she was sound asleep. No dreams plagued her mind, no nightmares either. Just the bliss of the darkness and relief.

* * *

The rope around Merlin's wrists and ankles prevented the blood flow to his feet and hands. It was a cold night and the weather was biting. Combined with the lack of warm blood to his limbs Merlin felt cold. All over, and inside.

  
  


Where was his king? How could he be left here? These and many other questions like them haunted Merlin through every night. For him there was no shortage of nightmares. Well that was when he got to sleep. They lurked in the dark that lay behind the light. They crept through the shadows, blending in with the night. The darkness caused his eyes to strain and he was soon see things that were not there. Pale dots that floated through his vision, flicking as he moved his eyes. There was no way he could focus on them.

  
  


Outside of his walls, Merlin could hear the crunch of leaves under the feet of creatures unknown. He watched the cracks in the door filter light through them and cast beams of light onto his face. They illuminated the inside of the caravan in stripes. Then the beams became lower. The sun was setting. If he pulled himself forward and dragged his cold limbs like logs, then he could just about make out a faint glow of a fire. He felt none of its warmth though, it was a torture that one knows only when they are freezing.

  
  


The cold which had stopped him from sleeping for a time, was now beginning to lull his brain into a hibernation mode. The cold closed around him and he could barely feel his fingers. The only position he could maintain with out killing his arms and legs was an awkward position on his back. He had to try to keep the limbs from the ground where from their heat would be removed.

  
  


It was like this that Merlin felt his eyelids droop, and he succumbed to sleep

  
  


_Arthur was sat on a log with his head on his hand, stubble glowing golden in the sun. It was morning and the birds were chirping. Arthur had a neckerchief in his fingers and he was sliding it through them. He looked thoughtful and concerned. The knights were asleep so the prince was on watch then. Merlin could not see where he was. Normally these dreams were in third person. So where was he?_

  
  


_Then it struck him. This was recent, the horses that he had been feeding were there, all of the bags they had used THAT day. This was either the future or a flashback of his soul-brother's. Arthur looked back at the sleeping knights, then he stood and walked to them._

  
  


_He reached out and patted Gwaine on the shoulder. The knight's reflexes kicked into action and he stood up comically, arms poised for a fight._

“ _We need to start looking again now Gwaine. Help me get the others up and we will get going soon.” Gwaine nodded and the alert posture slipped from him. The action in his eyes died as well. The long-haired_ _knight walked with long footsteps around the knights prodding them with his toes, effectively waking them up._

  
  


_All of the knights gathered around the embers and lined up for cold leftovers. There was no mood in the camp. At all. Nobody could decide to be sad, depressed guilty or angry. At each stop there had been a different mood but now there was none left. They were shells now, they had felt it all now._

  
  


_Then there was laughter and a young boy entered the camp, closely followed by another. Merlin. His large ears were covered by dark locks that blocked his eyes partially. The knights looked up and_ _ saw the boys. Some of them saw it was Merlin and they watched in awe. Then there was the giggles of the little boys. They ran in front of their King, joking and playing. They began tugging at the royals sleeves and dragging him over. Arthur bent down to play as well, a smile on his face. _

  
  


_There was a whistle through the air. Before anyone knew what was happening, an arrow embedded itself in young Will's back. He screamed loudly and collapsed into the arms of the King. Whispering soothing words of a father-figure Arthur pulled the arrow from his back and tried to stop the bleeding. As he did this a lean figure stepped out of the bushes. A crossbow in had._

  
  


_The figure wore a tan coat and boots that fit him snugly. And a purple neckerchief..._

  
  


_He raised the crossbow and took aim again. At the unwary king._

  
  


_The trigger was pulled back slowly and the arrow met its mark with a solid thump._

  
  


_Merlin turned to look at the knights, there was no remorse in his face. The young man didn't even look at his king, he just grinned._

  
  


_His eyes glowed red like coal in a dying fire._

  
  


_The red irises morphed into those of Ceara._

  
  


_The knights fell to their knees in front of the girl and she laughed._

  
  


_Laughed._

  
  


Laughter, it was laughter that awoke Merlin from his dream- nightmare. He blinked the dust from his eyes, trying to clear his blurred vision.

  
  


The guards of Ceara were back for him again.

 


	11. Defiance

They were back for him again. It had been one of the longest nights that Merlin could remember. The nightmare had left him trembling and fears of his failed destiny plagued his mind. Of course Arthur would probably never understand what he went through for him. But he cared.. Merlin felt even guiltier when he thought about how the separation of Emrys and The Once and Future King that made them both vulnerable. They relied on each other.

If there was one thing that he knew as the guards approached, it was that he would never betray his king. He was the defence that could bring everything down if he cracked. Merlin held the knowledge of defences even the King didn't know about.

He would remain strong. That became a chant in his head as the guards walked to him, daggers in hand. Glints in their eyes promising trouble.

As Arthur and the knights woke, blinking in the new sun, they heard a distinct rustling in the bushes behind their clearing. The noises were getting louder and clearer as they advanced. It took less than a minute before all of the knights were in battle stances, swords drawn, pointing to to the disturbance. It was definitely clearer now. They could hear voices. The drowsy knights formed a circle and increased the strength that they held in their stances. Each rustle sharpened their alertness.

A glisten on the trees was the first sign of their step into the clearing. It was a dancing faerie on the rugged oak's trunk. The sun was once again tracing itself along the blades of the men advancing towards the knights. The sharpened metal swords were cold, waiting for the blood to warm them up. They were the beasts that lay in wait of a command to strike, bite, they were hungry. Each man wielding them was also greedy for a fight. Waiting for the rush of adrenaline through their veins. They did not, however, know that the men they were about to attack were trained knights of Camelot.

Positions changed as the knights assumed an offensive position as opposed to the previous defensive. With a single fluid motion Arthur signalled for them to spread out over to the exits of the clearing. Elyan took the main entrance whilst Gwaine took the smaller one where the rustling was. Arthur's goal to catch the men off guard was successful.

They entered the clearing and there they saw the knights. It was unexpected for them to be this outnumbered and they were shocked to find men behind them. Acting on instinct the man nearest the small entrance swung his blade around and it made contact with Gwaine's legs. With a howl of pain he dropped to his bloody knees, swinging upwards as he went.

A solid crack resounded through the clearing as the tip of the knights blade collided with the rough man's chin. He stumbled backwards, and Gwaine bundled up into a ball clenching himself against the pain, only really succeeding in making it worse.

"Gwaine!" a shout echoed from the other side of the clearing, Arthur turned around as he felled his opponent. Leon was the one to have issued the shout, at the other man's cry. Gwaine looked up,

"Leon, behind you!" A blade swung around towards the knights head only to be parried and the fight's intensity to increase again. Arthur darted to Gwaine whilst Percival joined Leon in his onslaught.

With a final thud from one of the knights swords their opponent dropped to his knees and then fell to the ground, limp. It was over. All of the knights swarmed to Gwaine, who lapped up the attention gratefully. He smiled and joked at them lifting the mood.

"Gwaine, how is it?" Arthur gestured to the rough knights knees.

"Better than it was, but it still stings a bit..."

"Your such a girl Gwaine, you even have the flowing locks for it." Leon insulted the drunk teasingly, breathing hard.

"Well we can't all have a beard of immortality, and eternal youth." It had become a joke amongst the knights that Leon didn't ever seem to get injured, and if he did it was only ever minor, that he must be immortal.

"Good, well done, all of you, for your reactions to that...visit." Arthur turned back to face the clearing, ignoring the banter, and surveyed the area. The carnage of the men was scattered around the clear space in amongst the towering trees. He faced the knights once more. "We will leave soon. There may be more so keep you guard up and we should be ready."

Gwaine's eyes looked passed Arthur's shoulder towards the broken men. They narrowed and the widened suddenly, his pupils shrinking at the light.

"Arthur-" his yell rang through the clearing like a bell, but he was too slow. As the King swung around, the glint of a blade caught the suns rays, it tumbled through the air. Over and over again. With a solid thump it embedded itself in the young King's shoulder. With a cry he fell to the ground.

Panting in short breathes the injured King reached up to the dagger and pulled. Immediately blood pooled at his fingertips, driving its way through them, and down his arm. The uninjured hand grasped the knife firmly and threw it at towards his attacker. The moan as it made contact was brief as it struck his bare neck.

Arthur fell backwards just as the knights began to register what had happened and began to move. The darkness claimed him within a heartbeat. And he was dead to the world.

The raven head lifted from its position on the thin man's chest. A wide grin was comfortably placed on his pale face. Multiple cuts oozed blood on his soaring cheekbones. Every breath he took seemed to rattle as it jerked his broke ribs, but the smile was still there. There was a light in his eyes that never seemed to fade, no matter what they did to him.

Defiance.

Nothing could make him spill the secrets that were kept under lock and key within his mind. The ever moving insolent mouth had stopped giving frustrating quips and no refused to make a sound.

Along the wall of the second tent he had been brought to, were a range of devices intent on delivering harm. Many were laced with complex spell work that caused incalculable amounts of pain. Others were just steel, and dreams from the imaginations of the worlds cruellest men. However none could make him talk.

"What are you grinning at boy?! Do you not know when to stop?!" large chunks of spittle flew past Merlin and some made it's home on his shirt. The thug leant forward and removed the gag, that they had placed there after they grew tired of his insults, from Merlin's mouth. A trickle of blood came from the corner of it as he did so, joining the rivets running down the side of his face. He flexed his jaw for a moment and then the smile just replaced itself.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted rid of that gag. Also, do you really think I will spill the secrets of my kingdom to you filth?" That earned him a slap about the face and he spat out another glob of blood. Then the gag was replaced. The fire in those cerulean eyes didn't once flicker.

The thug turned his muscled back to him and sighed.

"Well then. If that is the way you want to play it then I am sure my lady will not worry about getting her hands dirty."

In that brief moment there was a flicker of something deeper, darker in his eyes. A shimmer of fear.


	12. Druids

Ceara's guards approached him. Their hands were clenched and veins were prominent on their foreheads. Merlin was sweating all over, for hours now he had been stuck in this tent. The torture instruments were hanging on hooks and ropes on the walls. They looked unstable but they didn't need to be stable. After all they were used frequently, so wouldn't need to hang for long.

Merlin wasn't the not the only one who was sweating. Karl the main 'torturer' was having no luck with Merlin. No matter how much blood was spilled onto the bench. He would say nothing. That was the depth of his unwavering loyalty.

Merlin had a strong will, even without his magic. Also the torture, although terrible, wasn't affecting Merlin in the way it would a normal being. His magic had been suppressed, yes, but it was not still. It was protecting him even now. It was like putting a lid on a boiling liquid. The liquid flows and bubbles underneath but can't escape, can't be poured or released.

No matter how hard Karl tried, none of the usual methods would shatter the wall of Emrys' magic. Occasionally he may make a crack or a dent in the shield but never completely destroy it.

"Well Merlin," Karl growled into his ear, "Are you angering me on purpose? Why won't you answer my questions eh? It would save you from more... Pain. " Karl pushed his fingers onto the partially healed wound in Merlin's shoulder. The muscles gave way beneath his fingers and Merlin's eyes bugged out. A small bubble of sound pushed its way up his throat. He didn't want to release the entire stream of his pain. He would not give him the satisfaction.

Karl pushed deeper. The tide of his pain was released and he was sure that he saw a candle burn brighter than was normal. It rose up and licked at the air for a few seconds and then shrank back to its normal height.

"How would you like to try something slightly different? I cant do this one, but I'm sure watching is just as fun." He grinned, "have you felt her presence before? Isn't she just... electrifying."

A shiver ran along the warlocks spine, manifesting itself as a shudder. There was no doubt in his mind who  _she_ was. Karl first walked to Merlin's head and gagged him and then strode over to the tent flap and summoned another guard. A few words passed between them and they both laughed.

Not five minutes later the tent flap danced open again. The small girls blonde girls danced behind her as she skipped across the small room. The perfect embroidery on the course dress glittered in the soft candlelight.

"Hello Merlin. It's so nice to meet you again. I understand that you have been a little tied up lately. I also hear that you have been causing some problems in giving me the information I require from you." she laughed. It was a shrill sound, like breaking glass. "Shame-" she skipped over to Merlin, touching his bare torso. "I liked that shirt-" Her icy fingers trailed across Merlin's cuts; he shivered. Merlin shot her a glare.

"Don't frown Merlin the wind might change and your face will be stuck."

Gradually moving herself to his head, Ceara stood above him. This was a moment Merlin would never forget. Her eyes glowed like red hot coals and his gag fell away.

"Now Merlin. I need some information and you will tell me; in one way or another. The information I want, you must understand this, has no importance to  _me_. But my sister... she will find it most useful. I have never met her but her reputation proceeds her. And Grandmother spoke highly of her."

"What do  _you_ want Ceara? Not your sister but  _you._ I will never give anything up that will betray r Arthur or Camelot."

"Maybe not willingly, no." Merlin shuddered again. "You will have no choice as to what you will say. In fact you may not even say it. I have gifts...and since you enjoyed their effects last time..."

Merlin flinched violently, the nightmare coming back to him in a flood. Ceara was the only one who could break his wall.

"Even you won't be able to fight me."

"I will fight you until my last breath. Or I will find a way to stop you!" he shouted feebly.

"Brave, brave words Merlin."

Her hand reached back to his wounds and all went black.

* * *

"Arthur! Arthur wake up!"

"Merlin?" Arthur said blearily. Leon's face loomed through his cloudy vision. "Uh." It was only then that Arthur realised he was lying on something soft.

Another face became focused and it was vaguely familiar to the King. Where did he know him from? Arthur's mind began to connect the dots. Mordred. Morgana. The druids. It was the druid who he had handed Mordred over to. The one they had visited for the Cup.

Arthur grunted and reached around to his waist, feeling for his sword. He winced. As he had twisted he had pulled the careful stitching of his wound. Hissing slightly in pain, Arthur lifted his shirt. A raw looking hole was buried in the muscles of his shoulder. Jagged edges of thread blew slightly in the breeze his breath was creating. The wound looked about a month old. However it was still deep. It was a hard wound that would take months to heal normally.

"what happened? Why are we here?" Looking around at the worried faces of the druids and the concerned frowns of the knights.

"Do you not remember anything sire?"

"I remember the hunt and then a bandit attack. Where's Merlin?" Arthur looked around expectantly, waiting to see his bumbling manservant pop out from behind a tree.

"Do you not remember anything before the bandit attack? About Merlin?"

"What about Merlin? Is he alright? Was he injured like me?" A crease of worry joined those of age on Iseldir's forehead. The druid leader stepped forward.

"No sire. We don't know where he is. I have some of my best trackers helping your knight, Gwaine? They are performing a spell which should lead us close to his location."

No magic. Wherever he is, we can find him. We will find him. I don't trust any magic not to burn me."

"It is what helped you, Sire. And your knight. Without it you would both be dead. Merlin may also die if you won't let us help you."

Arthur's mind was swimming. If he didn't use magic they might never find Merlin. Or at least not in time. If they did, then surely there would be a consequence. There always was when magic was involved. Magic was evil. Wasn't it? He had been healed. Was that an evil thing?

"What is the price?"

"What price, Sire?"

"To save Merlin. There is always an alternative motive with magic!"

"No sire, there isn't. Why don't you trust me? I have done nothing to harm you. And this child-" he pulled forward a small boy. He had blue eyes, filled with fear. It was a sight that should never have a place on a child's face. And it was directed at  _him._ His wild hair flickered in the breeze and his eyes widened as he met Arthur's. He looked like a young Merlin. "This boy was given the gift of healing with his touch. Not an hour ago he healed your knight, Gwaine, without him, your friend would have been crippled. The damage down to his muscle and tissue alone, would have left every step agony. I won't even begin to describe the damage to his knee-bones."

Arthur looked at the boy with new eyes. He looked tired, and he had rings under his eyes. But there was pride there too. It was a little spark that jumped behind them, a flickering light.

"Thank you"

"See, King Arthur. Magic is not bad. Neither is it good. It is like fire. And that is how it feels. A rush of warmth. Fire can be used to warm and to wound. It can be used to create or destroy. Open your eyes, my King, and see it's beauty. Your father-" Arthur flinched as his father was mentioned.

"-was a great man, in many ways. He was a strong ruler and a sturdy King. However he was blinded. Fear and pain do that to a person. When you don't want something to be true you block it out, ignore it. You believe the opposite of what is true. Your father was a thrown into a world with no light. His flame had been extinguished. He turned to magic as a way to blame someone other than himself. The magical community took that blame and paid the price in the wrath of a heartbroken king."

Arthur slowly leant his head back. Questions came back to him again.

"king Arthur, don't let your father's mistakes ruin your reign. Magic cannot be destroyed. It is in the rain, the soil and the air. All of them combined make your world. The beauties you see.

"Next time you walk with your wife, or patrol with your men; keep your mind open and notice your world

"magic is not evil. If you treat it well it will do the same to you. One day, probably very soon, you will discover something that will shake your beliefs to their foundations. Remember what I have said." Iseldir sighed.

"We will help you fin Merlin, whether you want our help or not. We will be here, assisting you. Our King." With that he left King Arthur baffled speechless.

Suddenly the reality of where he was hit him. The events since the kidnapping pounded his skull. Merlin had to be alive.  _He'd know if he wasn't._ No he wouldn't even think it. He tried to sit up. And the his shoulder made itself known again.

"Ah!" he doubled over, pulling the would further. The knights were at his side in a flash. So was the young Merlin-like boy.

"Sire..." he stammered. Then he pulled himself together and opted a look strangely akin to Gaius'. "Stay down sire. You already have pulled out the stitches. Lay back down for a moment."

Arthur pulled back as the pale hand reached for his wound, he saw, for a moment a girls face with glowing eyes, and the he came back to himself and saw the boy.

"Relax, Sire." He soothed, much like the calming tones used on a wild horse. The boy touched his side and closed his eyes. A faint glow of gold shone through his eyelids. Then he opened his eyes and the sun spilled from them. But Arthur was watching his side.

Slowly but surely, the sides of his wound pulled themselves together. Muscles re-knitted themselves back together and blood seeped from the wound as it replenished itself. The boy sat back, an exhausted look on his face. The only sign of the wound was the puckered edges of the fleshy wound, no longer the gaping hole. Even though the wound was not completely healed, Arthur was free of pain. The magic hummed in his blood, and it was warm.

Arthur Pendragon, slowly, was changing his view of magic.


	13. Legends and Destiny

Merlin woke up without pain. No flood of fire pounded against his skull and none of the weeping wounds sent their jolts through him. They were still there, he could tell, but he couldn't feel them.

It took him a few moments to realise another figure was in the room with him. She sat in a chair in the corner, quietly watching his face. As he started to stare at her, Ceara blinked. The pale blue orbs turned crimson and fires swirled in them. Her pale features glowed in the dark and gave her an eerie appearance.

"There was a shift in the fabric of magic whilst you were unconscious Merlin. You felt it though, even if you don't remember. I watched your face change. It was a part of a great destiny, moving closer to completion." She stepped forward. "You wouldn't know about that would you Merlin? Anything at all...?"Merlin shook his head. The movement somehow made him dizzy.

Her fingers were at his face again, cool against inflamed flesh. Merlin forced himself to construct a shield and found, much to his surprise, that some of his magic responded and strengthened the shield.

"I think you do know something. I could feel it. I can feel it. Even with your clever little shield in you mind, I can feel your emotions... your lying. I can fell your heart, it is fast, your sweating Merlin, but tonight it's cold. Why would you lie? Something about you maybe...? Anyway we may soon find out, my guest, although  _delayed_  by other matters will soon be here. And now I know about your past Merlin, she can influence your future." A grim smile grew on her face as she turned away, leaving Merlin to his thoughts.

A shift in magic? He had felt it, and it was the same sort of shift he had felt when others destinies had been changed, like Mordred's, but this had felt closer to him. It could only have been a change in his destiny with Arthur. Merlin began to panic then and had to force those feelings down. His mind was jumping and his wounds were beginning to get agitated.

The numbness started to recede from his wounds as the shield in his mind was reinforced. This led Merlin to believe that it was his magic that was helping the levels of pain in his body decrease. The flame hadn't been a trick of his mind. The drug, though still very strong, was wearing off.

* * *

Arthur followed the druid elder through rows of tents. Many had fires outside, pots bubbling over them, and clothes, hung out to dry. Arthur looked around at the camp, a place he never thought he would be walking through. Little signs of everyday life, bringing it back to him hard that these were ordinary people, living their lives. But there were no people, they had hidden away, sheltered their children and cowered as he passed. It was as though he were the embodiment of a disease, crawling past them. They hid their eyes and their faces away from  _him_  in terror.

"They fear me so much. They won't even look at me. Do they hate me?" Arthur was disgusted at what he and his father had done to these people. They lived every day in fear. The fear of discovery, their every living moment continually breaking the law. Children who should have been playing, carefree were even now hidden behind a thin canvas layer.

"No they do not hate you. How could they hate the Once and Future King. They have deep set fear of you, and for good reason after what you and you father have done. But they have hope in the future and a faith in you and Emrys."

Arthur jolted, faith in him? He opened his mouth to ask, but closed it again as he gave it deeper thought. He could feel some purpose within himself to help these people, answering his own question. So instead he asked, "Who is Emrys?"

"Have you never heard our legends Arthur Pendragon? Never heard of the Prophecy?"

Arthur looked perplexed, prophecy? "No. My father never allowed any form of magical lore reach me. I have little knowledge of your people, apart from what I have seen, and been told by Gaius."

"Well then it is a wonder you have never heard it. It speaks of a King, a king who is just, fair and kind. He is the one who will one day free the land of its evils and unite the five kingdoms as Albion. The place spoken of by the prophets, it will be a prosperous land, peace will reign and all of her people shall be joyful. That man is the Once and Future King.

"But the journey to get to Albion will be a long and hard one. The king will face many terrors and trials along the path. Alone he would surely perish. So Destiny created a defender, a man born with magic, the first and last of his kind. The warlock Emrys. He shall be born the most powerful magic user to ever live, and loyal to the King.

And to answer the question of our faith in you, you  _are_ the Once and Future."

Arthur stood still for a moment, allowing the legend to sink in _. He_  would unite  _all_  of Albion's people under one banner? How was that to be? The implications took longer to settle. A warlock, protecting him. That was just a ridiculous idea. But then again.. how many tight scrapes had they gotten out of? Too many to count... how many lucky coincidences where not luck at all but magic?

They continued to walk until they reached a tent, slightly larger than the others. In it were several roughly carved chairs and a large round table. Around it sat the druid elders and...

"Gwaine?!"

"Evening Princess, nice to see you up, I would come over but my knees need resting. Been seeing to finding Merlin as you thought it a good time to take a kip."

"Well thank you Gwaine, I'm glad to see you're better."

"Only thanks to the little kid," he smiled. "Amazing talent he's got. Even if it is magic"

"Yes, I agree, though I wish he could have found a way to shut you up. Then he should have been rewarded hugely."

He strode over and took a seek by Gwaine and was soon joined by Iseldir. The King of Camelot and the Druids began a plan to save a servant around a round table of equality; Just as the King had years before to save his Kingdom.


	14. Hope

Arthur watch tentatively as the druids linked hands over the table. In the centre of the table there was a single new candle. The druids had quickly come to a decision as to where they would begin the search for Merlin, they had a map laid out on the oak. Their current location was marked carefully in a glowing dye. The idea of the spell, or so Arthur gathered, was to get some wax from the new, unburned candle, to guide them to Merlin. He had no idea how it would work, nor how it would be specific enough to pinpoint his lost friend. The druids had asked for a part of Merlin, maybe some of his hair or even his blood. Arthur had no trace of Merlin though, the only blood of his he had had was on the sword that he had been knocked out with. The congealed blood probably had some hairs in it but the sword had been left behind after the bandits attack on him and Gwaine. Upon hearing this the druids had had to rethink all of their careful planning, and that is how they come up with the searching spell the King was witnessing in front of him.

"Before we start sire, I would like for you to stand away from the table. The magic can be quite fierce sometimes and with this many of us performing it at once, it could be stronger than we think. But don't worry, although it is powerful and may feel as though it takes a while, it's quite quick." Arthur looked over the contents of the table once more and noted the candle had been lit. One of the younger druids in the circle held the dancing flame to the corner of the map. He then repeated this for each of the corners. Wisps of smoke graced the air in swirling patterns as the paper caught light and the tendrils of flame licked away.

The druids began to chant, an eerie rhythm was set and the flames began to move to the tune. The words were chilling to the young King but all life outside the tent seemed to have stopped to listen. Despite his worries Arthur was still fascinated by the direction the flames were taking. Slowly they burned away the outer edge of the map, leaving a crisp black sheet. They moved in towards the centre but then shifted slightly. The flames to the right seemed to retreat and those on the left advanced towards them. The tongues licked at the surface and formed a small circle, left and right meeting again. And then, without warning the flames died, leaving a glowing circle around an unblemished section of map.

"That's where he is."

Iseldir drew a line from their location, circled in the undamaged dye, to the location where the now knew to be where Merlin was. It was quite a distance, but it was achievable. And a massive step from where they were at yesterday.

Arthur looked in awe at the section of forest, previously indistinguishable from the vast forest surrounding it, that had been laid plainly out for him to see. Maybe magic was a beautiful thing.

Maybe there was hope yet.

* * *

Hope was in Merlin's heart. His magic was here, he could feel it. There was no denying it. It may have been weak but it was better then none at all. He smiled. It cracked a few scabs on his face and warm blood trickled down his features but he didn't care.

He felt invincible.

Ceara strode in and touched her pale hand to his and smiled at him. Their eyes met.

"I will discover your secrets Merlin. All of them."

The small girl pulled a dagger from her belt and raised it to Merlin's forehead.

"And I know just the thing."

She almost lovingly pulled the blade across his head. Blood trickled down, into his eyes. Although it was not deep, it dribbled blood steadily.

Merlin cried out. Closing his eyes. Rivets of red ran down his cheeks, gathering like tears at the end of his nose. Drip. Drip. Drip. They landed on the floor.

A small gasp from Ceara made Merlin open his eyes. She was now sporting a similar cut on her on brow.

She stepped closer to Merlin's face, looking up at him, a spatter of his blood caught her on the cheek.

She stepped back a moment, and pulled a chair over to her. Standing atop the chair she could look into his eyes. Cupping his face between her palms in semblance of a lovers caress, she pulled his head to hers. And touched their foreheads together.

Merlin screamed as their blood met. Often in dark rituals the mixing of blood had been used, but this... Because as their blood met, so did their minds.

Merlin could do nothing to prevent her entering his soul. Visions swam before him. Seemingly out of him.

Into her.

Everything up until now flashed before their eyes. Secret meetings with Kilgharrah... Freya. Arthur. His magic. Every plot he had foiled. Every plan he had made. Every success. Every failure.

His destiny.

The contact was broken. Ceara stumbled back the chair wobbled. She had just experienced the entire life of another, in the space of minutes. Or at least it had felt like minutes. The sun was dying in the sky, hanging low, and the sky was darkening. There was no moon tonight, nothing. It had been hours not minutes, they had stood there. Their heads connected, their minds entwined.

Ceara spoke first, a harsh sound in the smooth silence. "Your secrets are out Merlin. They are plain to see. Or should I say Emrys."

There was one thing in Merlin's mind that could squash hope. Ruin the peace and destroy the façade of joy. And that was what shrouded his mind in ice the moment she spoke those words. The seconds it took for them to sink in.

Fear.

 


	15. Perspective

"My sister will be pleased. I have quite a well of information to give to her. The mighty Emrys brought to her and the King soon following."Ceara gloated. Merlin raised his head, Arthur was coming? No. He couldn't be. But it made sense, Merlin wasn't both sides of the coin; Arthur could also put himself in danger for Merlin. Of course he would he would be coming, why had he doubted it.

"Oh yes Merlin, the king is coming for you. My sister will rip his- ahhh" Ceara doubled over before she could finish the sentence. "Ahhh!" she clutched at her head. The blood in her pale face drained and she collapsed to her knees. "What have you done? What's happening to me?!" Merlin began to laugh.

"It's the magic! It's to much for you, digging through years of  _my_ memories, that is going to have some effect, but you went ahead and raided my mind anyway. Memory is an ancient form of magic, like love. It has power over us, it influences our actions, who we are and who we become! Riffling through a few would be uncomfortable, but my  _entire_ life? You really are stupid. You threw yourself into them and they have rushed into you." Merlin laughed harder, the manacles on his wrists jangled. An idea hit him.

Pulling down on his arms, Merlin put all of his weight onto them, and then pulled even harder. His eyes glowed in the gloom as he poured every ounce of his magic into the tug. The manacles began to give. Ceara stood again her eyes blazing.

"No matter Emrys. I will recover and it is too late for you. My sister is coming. She is close, so close. You and your precious Arthur shall meet again for the last time-" she stood straight backed and a different manner overcame her. She assumed the pose of a royal. Her voice changed and when she spoke again it was with Morgana's voice that spilled past her pale lips. "- but before I kill you, before I grant you such mercy after what you have done to me, you will watch him  _burn_. Your  _precious_  Arthur. I will watch him burn as my Mother burned, I will watch as  _they_  watched, and celebrate his death! I will drink to  _your_  tears and laugh with his screams of  _agony_. I will warm by his pyre, just as _he_  has done for countless others! Oh how it will feel to kill the King. Smash his reign and bring back magic to this land. Under its rightful Queen."

"Morgana!" Merlin gasped.

"Merlin." she paused. "I have been hearing interesting things..." Merlin's heart leapt. She knew?

"I take it you have been giving this child trouble. Nobody upsets my sisters Merlin. Even if this isn't her true self at the moment."

_So Ceara was a puppet of Morgana's._

"Yes, the mandrake can bend even the youngest of minds to my will."

 _Another child was suffering at the hands of Morgana, and Merlin wouldn't stand for it._ But that meant she didn't know about him being Emrys, if she did she would have been furious, and not this calm. How could he fix this?

"I will be with you soon Merlin, I have a lot of things to  _discuss_  with you. Oh and don't fret  _Old Friend_ , Arthur is coming."

"And Ceara, what will you do with her? She's your sister! And a child!"

"Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. I thought you knew by now that any who go against me don't last very long. She knows that, but the mandrake has done its work well, she will be fine as long as she follows me."

"You would force your own sister to do that? A lifetime of servitude to your twisted ways. She is in pain Morgana. You have twisted her innocent childlike spirit, into a cruel, evil mind. She is broken Morgana, you have ruined her life!"

Ceara's face pulled into a small smile before her head dropped back to her chest andher eyes became a tempest of dark gold. She doubled over again, crying and clutching her head.

"What's happening to me? Please, you're Merlin, the Emrys, protector of the Once and Future King. Help me? Please..." It wasn't like her voice had been before. This was the voice of a terrified little girl. So lost and alone.

"I can't... I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry... I can't help you." Merlin stumbled over these words, despite the pain she had put him through, his loving heart went out to her.

Suddenly Ceara's head snapped up. The innocent girl was no more and the Morgana in her was back.

"That was your chance Merlin." She stood once again and walked shakily over to him. "I will not help you now. You have lost any mercy you may have had."

She stormed out, the tent fluttering after her.

"I will try... I'll try to help you... I'm sorry." Merlin whispered after her, knowing she would not hear but meaning it whole heartedly all the same.

* * *

"Hang on Merlin, we're coming."

Arthur, Iseldir, Percival, Leon, Elyan and Gwaine had been stumbling through the thick woodland for hours now. A sheen of sweat coated their brows and shone like beads in the dying light. The druids had led them to a clearing in the centre of the dense woodland with their magic, and Arthur was impatient to get there. Strangely Arthur wasn't as bothered by the use of magic by the druids as he had thought he would be. It had become a background action. It didn't stand out in his mind whilst his concentration was focused on finding Merlin. It was still a strange feeling though. He had been raised with hatred of magic and it's users, and now, to save his best friend, he had been thrust into a world of magic. It was overwhelming.

Gwaine hadn't been anywhere near as hard as Arthur to convince about the goodness of magic. After having been given back his ability to walk, and his legs healed, saving him from a dull life, he was nearly there but then they had sealed his heart.

The druids had celebrated for a time after finding the location of Merlin. The knights didn't know it, but the druids were happy to be able to help Emrys. There had been small parties over the camp with those who would be staying at camp when the knights went. Arthur had tutted at the waste of time, but Gwaine took full advantage. After all, food, women and ale. What more could a man ask for? After about twenty minutes he had managed to find the druid chief's daughter and nearly got himself into trouble with her betrothed, and her father, but then the Gwaine was dragged away at the promise of alcohol. When Gwaine had gathered with some of the young druids and some of the other knights, a large barrel was rolled over to them. In the barrel was the best ale Gwaine had ever tried, and that was saying something. It was sweet and infused with subtle magic. Home pressed and made from the camp's resources it was fine indeed. When Gwaine asked how where they not always drunk, the young druid replied that they rarely drank, and only on  _very_ special occasions. None of the knights really questioned why they were drinking it now, but politely drank a small amount and readied to leave the festivities.

Leon was as loyal to Arthur as ever and when the King decided the druids worthy of his trust, he was also content, for now. But if any of the druids made a move against the King, he wouldn't hesitate to change his view.

Percival had grown up in a village that was so closely linked to a druid camp, that they to societies had practically lived together anyway. He believed that the druids cause was for the good, and they really needed to find Merlin. He was confident that the druids were only working for the good of the King and his manservant.

Elyan on the other hand remained wary. Whilst the druids had proved themselves for now, he had been brought up to know that magic could turn. His father had been executed for the accusation alone of sorcery, and he wouldn't trust it entirely. He had been stung by magic's touch before, he would avoid the same pain again.

The map that was guiding them to the clearing had been magically altered so it always showed where they were and where they wanted to be. As they moved the little cluster of dots was also moving, in relation to where they were. Arthur imagined that it would look like this if he were a bird. They could see where they were, but their precise location was not clear. They sometimes had to divert in their track a little because they were too visible, or there was an obstacle they had to get around. This added extra time to the journey, but it still felt as though they were moving faster then they had been because they had a destination now.

It was nearly dark by the time Arthur and the others finally decided to stop for sleep. They set up a small, basic camp, with a small fire to keep away predators and for warmth. They then curled up on their sleeping rolls and drifted into uneasy sleep.

Tomorrow was a new day. They would get there soon, and Merlin would be safe.


	16. Waiting in the Woods

The knights continued to trek towards Merlin and the journey progressively got more and more difficult. It was nearly midday now and the sun was shining through the clouds sending watery light through the trees and illuminating their path, little by little. They were beginning to feel the strain of this journey and it was taking its toll on the injured. Gwaine especially was struggling and they had to keep slowing down to allow him time to rest. Iseldir, the only druid to accompany them, was adamant that they slow down. Gwaine was barely healed when they had left and any excess strain could well rip his legs further. When with the aid of magic, in that case it would be hard to regain his ability to walk, let alone fight. Arthur obeyed the druid because the repercussions of Gwaine's injuries would be traumatic not only for the green knight but also the rest of the knights.

That was how they found themselves, nearly halfway through the day with very little distance behind them. The journey was becoming arduous and they were all suffering from it. Gwaine was sat on a log in a small, merciful clearing they had found. The path so far had been very strenuous, and the growth of some of the trees looked very magically enhanced. Iseldir had even shivered when they had walked through the darkened woods. The light couldn't seem to pierce the tree canopy and the shadows were more pronounced than they had been before. Vines grew over the path and the use of swords was more necessary now to break their grasp than to fight. Something evil was making these woods flourish.

Gwaine stood up a smile on his face and he swept his hair out of his eyes in an over enthusiastic motion, but Arthur didn't miss the glimmer of pain behind his cheerful eyes before he covered it up.

"We going Princess?"

"Finally recovered are we Gwaine? Gwen would be faster than you, and she's a girl." Arthur looked pointedly at the flowing locks that were precariously balanced on his shoulders. The resulting windswept look had an air of deliberateness, yet complete accidental perfection.

"That's my sister that you're talking about, watch yourself."

"Never said there was anything wrong with  _her_ , it's him who's annoying."

"Sorry  _Sire_ , should we start moving again or is that to much effort for your royal highness."

"No Gwaine, I'm sure we're  _capable_." The comment may have hurt had it not been the smile on the King's lips, even if there was a hint of concern. That and the rough knight was impervious to such remarks by now. He was best friends with Merlin. Gwaine stood and waited as the knights gathered the things up and put them into the knapsacks they had brought for the hunt. He winced as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, he started pacing nervously as the time ticked by slowly.

It didn't take long for them all to get moving again, but it felt like an age to each one of them and the were tracing a careful path through this new terrain. Merlin's dot seemed fainter and Arthur wondered if it was just the light or whether there was any magical significance. Maybe he'd ask Iseldir later.

The track that they took branched off from the clearing to the west and that set them on a perfect course to Merlin, provided that there were no obstacles that stopped them. With the exception of the vines, gnarled tree roots and darkened skies there hadn't been all that much stopping their path. Call it tempting fate but Arthur was relieved at this.

"Come on let's get going, it won't be long and it will be sunset again, we have used enough time already."

The King and his travel-weary companions began to trudge through the unused path between the trees. They seemed to be breathing, the trees, creaks and moans collected in the canopy above them and shivers were sent down their spines.

"Stick to the path and stay quite, I don't like the feeling of this wood." Arthur's military training overran his instinct to flee this place and never return. The darkness seemed a physical presence and it was pressing down on them in a suffocating blanket. The sun was no longer visible but the night had not yet drawn in.

The creaking continued and the rustle of leaves as they brushed against the floor increased as the wind picked up. The forest was no longer the haven that was seen on the Camelot side. This was something that parents told their children to keep them out of the forest at night. Or day. Without command or conscious thought they all sped up, Arthur in the lead, Gwaine pulling up the rear. It had started with Arthur at the front and Percival at the back but Gwaine had slipped around, travelling slower and slower as his legs began to send bolts of pain up his body.

The whole party stopped and looked as a thud followed by a moan and rustling was heard behind them. They all turned to see Gwaine laying face down in the mud.

"...Stone..sorry...didn't see it coming at me" Gwaine tried to pick himself up off of the ground but was rewarded but his arms giving out and landing on his face again. Dark stains covered his knees but he quickly covered them in mud to disguise his injury.

"Anyone going to help me up?" He held up his arm looking for another to grasp onto.

No one moved.

The king stood with his mouth open in an unkingly manner and the other knights were tense

"What are you all looking at?"

Arthur gestured above him and Gwaine looked up to see a shining spike. The king began to make furious tiny gestures with his hands to his knights.

 _Gwaine get up_ a swift upward motion in Gwaine's direction

 _Percival get Gwaine_ a round motion from Percival to Gwaine

 _RUN!_ An uncomplicated gesture involving the king wildly swatting at something.

The knights nodded and took their positions. The hunting had really refined this skill. Arthur began to count down.

Gwaine braced himself.

Elyan grabbed Iseldir's arm and prepared to run.

Everybody moved at once. Percival darted to Gwaine and pulled him over his shoulder. Elyan began to drag Iseldir along slowly increasing the pace, Leon drew his sword and made sure that Percival and Gwaine were safe and Arthur began to shout commands again.

Gwaine bounced on Percival's back and the small army ran as fast as they could along the path. Despite the added weight of Gwaine, Percival didn't seem hindered. Leon kept behind the ground sword outstretched and running backwards. Elyan was the one to fall back. Iseldir began to flag and Elyan dropped back to encourage him, hand on his arm forcing him on.

He didn't see the rock that jutted out of the ground just in front of him, the others had run over it. He stumbled and turned to see a serket standing over him. He closed his eyes in defeat as the sting came down towards his chest.

"ELYAN!" Arthur roared as the sting hit the metal blade of Leon's sword and was deflected. But not far enough. As the sting continued its descent it embedded itself in Elyan's arm with a solid sound. It pierced down to bone and Elyan roared.

The scream that tore through his throat was enough for the birds in the trees to uproot themselves and take to the skies.

* * *

Morgana sat in the camp shelter she had made on the journey to find her sister. Of course she knew exactly where she was, it was her who had made sure that the camp was set up as it was. The surrounding forest had been enchanted by herself and Mordred some months ago. It was to be a safe haven for them if they were ever in need of it and it had the facilities that she was going to need to extract the information she wanted from people close to Camelot. Cities crumble from within.

When she had heard about Ceara she had sought the child out and infected her mind to do her bidding. In a way it was a practise of what she was planning for Guinevere. The child had fallen under her spell and quickly assimilated to her role in the band of ruffians she had created. By throwing her into a situation where she had saved their lives there was little they could do but be gracious. And that is how the innocent little Ceara who had watched her Grandmother burn turned into the perfect puppet. The poor girl was so lost after the death of Vivienne and there was not choice but to go to Morgana. That was her mistake. She was powerful now. And twisted.

Morgana had received word from a runner that there had been a very important prisoner caught, who was being interrogated by Ceara, and she had set of straight away. It wasn't until half way through her journey that Ceara contacted her and told her his name was Merlin. And of course at this point she began to speed her journey.

Ceara had given the impression that Merlin didn't have loose lips, which of course Morgana knew, and that was when she intervened by talking directly to Merlin. It had been such a long time and their relationship was dwindling. The thorn in her side had become numb.

Seeing Merlin through the eyes of the seven year old child meant she had a proper look at him. Her sister had clearly picked up a few of the family tricks. Merlin had been so beaten and bruised. Morgana just hoped the  _thorough_ interrogation had spread that bruising into his mind, his memories and his precious secrets.

She would make him black and blue, inside and out.

* * *

Merlin moaned as he moved. The wound in his shoulder had reopened and warm blood was trickling down his back. Sticky residue said the same had happened to his face. With his arms held above his head and his magic contained he felt utterly useless.

The drop of magic he had found within himself was being preserved. Any magic he regained he poured into a reservoir within himself. After all he needed something to defend himself and Arthur with when the time arose.

He had decided that he would reveal his secret. What was there left to lose? Arthur couldn't kill him, as soon as he was free he would only have a few days to live. What would be the point? As for Morgana, if he was clever and kept Arthur away from him, he could end this all. This was his destiny. Maybe it was finally time to die by its hand.

If the two of them were close enough Merlin could destroy his magic and all magic in the surrouning area. That would allow the knights an escape the enchanted forest would die and any other foul creation wandering around out there. Morgana too would die. Her and her ideas. If he destroyed Morgana and the forest Arthur would see him differently. View his life as that of a man and not a traitorous sorcerer. If he could show him the goodness of magic.

Maybe he would forgive him.

Just maybe.


	17. Closing In

Elyan's scream tore from his throat with a raw sound. The guttural cry created a din worthy of the gods. Arthur ran to Sir Leon's defence and they began to battle off another creature. Every move the beast made, a shimmer was cast across the trees as the light caught the razor sharp blade.

Swords working together, they threw the beast between them. Terrifying screeches from the scorpion creatures joined the pained grunts of Elyan and the clatter of metal on scales. The sharpened points pulled down the sides of the beast in a manner similar to a shield. Reflected at ever blow, the armour plates were almost impenetrable. The scrapes echoed through the trees, like chalk down a board.

Sweat adorned the king and his knight's foreheads, like dew on a winter morning. Leon looked up from the task at hand and signalled to Arthur. Both knights, with the practise of skilled hunters, circled the serket and lined themselves up. They were facing each other, the creature between them. As they moved the giant scorpion followed pace and turned with them. This provided them the perfect opportunity to line up their swords with its midsection. At the signal they would move in. The clearing rang with silence as the other serkets seemed to have disappeared into the mist that was moving in. With shortened breath Arthur met the blue eyes of Leon and they thrust forward.

Swords met armour plating and forced through. Time froze, it trickled through the hole in the tension and passed slowly as the tail of the scorpion began to droop. Grinding their weapons into the beast, both king and knight grimaced. The screeching lessened and the body of the serket hung, suspended from their swords.

Dread clung to their stomachs, clouded their minds as the creature twitched on the blades. Elyan let out another gasp. It was quieter at last and Elyan slumped down.

Leon withdrew his sword first, and ran to Elyan's side, Percival was with him laying him down gently. Arthur took a hold of his head, and he began to take charge of the young knight.  
"Elyan...Stay with us."  
"Sire he's losing a lot of blood."  
"Come on mate you can do this." Gwaine's tone took on a scared edge as he looked into Elyan's eyes. The long haired man lowered himself onto the ground next to his friend,winced, and took his hand.  
"Elyan, it's going to be alright."  
"Hang in there"  
Arthur's voice rejoined the mix, authority rolling off of him in waves.  
"Percival do you know where we can get any sort of medicinal herbs or roots? If you do please anything that'll help. Leon, can you keep an eye on the border of this clearing, we can't afford to be ambushed now." Arthur's eyes clouded as he turned to the druid. As he spoke he let out a calming breath. "Iseldir, I know you're exhausted but we need to save him. Do you know anything about these beasts? I have only heard of them in legend and the truth in those tales is...questionable."

Iseldir lifted his head and looked into Arthur's eyes.  
"My Lord, there is no cure for the poison of the Serket. The wound I can heal, mostly, but the poison will stay in his blood."  
Arthur dreaded to ask, but he had to know "What will the poison do to him?"  
"Slowly it will take away the use of his limbs. His nerves will shut down and he will become unresponsive. All of his organs will slowly die and eventually fail him. He will die, my lord"  
Ice flooded his veins. He couldn't lose Elyan; his friend; His knight; His brother-in-law.  
"There is no cure? Nothing at all?"  
"There is one hope."  
The kings head lifted, hope in his eyes.  
"What is it Iseldir? Tell us."  
"You will not like my answer, my lord."  
"Tell me Iseldir! I will do anything!"  
"The cure lies with the dragons my lord."

* * *

Morgana advanced quickly, moving through the trees like a petal through a breeze. As she walked, trees bent over and bowed their limbs to her. The Dark Queen ran her hands through bushes and watched as they withered at her fingertips.

All manner of dark creatures roamed the woods, but not a single one came near the black clad woman. They kept away. The basic instincts of these animals was far to strong to ignore when this  _witch_  walked through the shadow of the trees. The natural magic of the world repelled her, like a body rejecting a splinter.

Mist rolled through the woods into her clearing. The air was heavy and the worst nightmares of children skulking in the shadows. Morgana ignored them, and they cowed from her power.

Morgana began to plot. From what her sister had told her Merlin was not caving. The child had some of the most persuasive techniques in the book. She had power and there was no denying it, but she had to be coached. Throughout the time Morgana had given Ceara, she had touched the delicate threads of Merlin's memories. The ever present thorn in her side was strong, but he would break.

Morgana sat on a log, a dwindling fire before her. She knew that Merlin would not survive long. She knew that he was on the verge of deaths grasp, but there was more information to be gleaned from him. She had no information from him. none.

Ceara had told her that there was another problem. Arthur was getting closer and closer. the camp was fortifying itself. At the rate that Morgana was travelling she would reach the camp, at most, a day before Arthur.

Morgana needed a way to keep Merlin away from Arthur. He needed to be contained in order to be questioned. A spark leapt in the dark witches eyes. There was a glimmer of a plan in the back of her mind, but it was complicated. Very complicated. she might just have time though. The distractions she had left in the wood around the camp would delay most attackers forever and the probability of them getting out alive was minimal. But this was Arthur and the knights of the round table. They had an unfortunate habit of not dieing.

The time that they got to the camp, Morgana's spell would be ready.

She would be ready.

 


	18. Roots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is the last that I have written, so there will be a bigger gap now as I need to write it :/   
> Also thank you to Eclaire for the review on chapter 9, I really need to learn how to reply, anyway, if you are still reading, Ceara is, as yet, an untested leader. The main idea was that she is a young girl whose family was torn apart, also that she is Morgana's sister. However at heart she is not evil as such, but the bitterness in her heart after her Grandmother/mother's death was amplified and twisted by Morgana's ways. When i started her character, she was totally evil, but she sort of... evolved. The respect the men have for her is more of magic, because she has no way to gain it completely, and this was given by Morgana. The only kindness she will have know is from her Mother/ Grandmother and the memories that Merlin has given up, kindness shown by Morgana is faked for her own purposes :) Thanks for the comment, and you have also given me some new ideas :D

"The dragons?", Arthur's stomach plummeted, there truly was no hope for their friend if the cure to his ailment lay with an extinct race.  
"Yes my Lord," Iseldir breathed deeply as his voice broke into the sorrowful thoughts of the King. However, the king himself only proceeded to explain to the druid, taking the voice of a patient parent talking to a child.  
"The dragons are all dead, Iseldir. I myself took a sword to the black heart of the last Dragon."  
A pause followed.  
"You didn't, sire"  
Arthur's face morphed from concern to ballistic fury, to doubt. "Of course I killed it! Merlin was there, he told me!"  
Iseldir's eyes grew panicked, he couldn't turn the king away from Emrys. without their bond...  
"Sire, sometimes trust involves not only the truth, but trusting someone to protect you as they believe fit. That is all Merlin has ever striven to do."  
"Merlin wouldn't lie to me" Arthur spat through clenched teeth; "I trust him too much, he knows that. Doesn't he? He has no reason to hide things from me."  
"He would never lie to hurt you sire. It is his aim, like all of ours, to protect you. No matter the cost."  
"What are you saying to me Iseldir? That Merlin lies to me so I am..what...safe? He knows I am capable of protecting myself. I don't know of a reason that he would lie about this."  
Iseldir frowned. How much could he tell the king without getting Emrys killed? A stony silence fell as Arthur turned his head to face the druid elder directly. Iseldir's pause threw Arthur over the edge. Merlin wouldn't lie.  
"Are you saying," Arthur paused, "That my servant, Merlin, has been lying to me about this, all along?"  
Iseldir swallowed, "Yes my Lord."  
"And tell me, druid, why would he do that?" Arthur glared at the druid, who didn't cower as one might when faced with the famous Arthur Pendragon.  
"Sire," Iseldir kept the honorific, despite the disregard for his own respect. "I don't know what I can- or rather should- tell you."

Arthur stepped forward, a threat in fewer words. Iseldir still didn't cower. The King stared for a few moments before breaking eye contact and turning away. Arthur ran a hand through his shaggy hair and then over his jaw, a light stubble had appeared as their journey lengthened.

"Why not?" Arthur's fury reignited, "My brother-in-law is dying. I demand you tell me everything that you know!" Arthur's demeanour broke a little, "Please?"

"Very well my lord. But you must promise to not make judgements until you have spoken with Merlin. This mission is still as important as it ever was to you, if not more so. Merlin is in great danger at the hands of Morgana." Arthur shuddered. "Also sire, please keep your mind open and be aware that these are not all of Merlin's secrets. I do not want the blood of your companionship in my hands."

The druid chief sighed at the King and then said. "I will tell you some of his story then sire. It is against all of my better judgement, but your knight," he nodded to Elyan, "Has very little time left."  
Arthur nodded, stony faced and pale.  
"You may want to sit down sire. This story will reveal things about Merlin, who will never forgive me, please let him forgive me, this was for his friends. " Iseldir muttered the last line as a prayer, hushed and with reverence.

"Ok." Puzzled, the king wandered back towards Elyan, raised him from Percival's hold and into his own. Arthur absently observed how low Elyan's breathing had gotten, and that what little colour he'd had in his cheeks was draining.  
"Please hurry with your tale Iseldir, I fear that he has little time to recover." The previous anger of the King was displaced by fear, and panic.  
"As you wish sire, but there is something you must understand. He chose none of this."  
Arthur waited, somewhat impatiently, as the druid paused.  
"For Merlin, Sire, it began in a 26 years ago small village just beyond the hold of Camelot's borders, a young woman called Hunith met with a strange man. This man had been a close friend to the King, your father sire, and he was scared. Uther had banished him from his Kingdom, and he was being pursued. Hunith had heard of the man through a friend of a friend and had offered her home as a sanctuary, to shelter him from the cold of Uther's wrath. Hunith fell for the man. And he for her. Their union was short alas, as Uther's men closed in on the village and searched for Hunith's stranger.

Despite the ache, the young woman pushed her love away, an icy shard in her heart. Before he left, the man left her one parting gift. An ornate dagger, far superior to any a woman, or man, of her class would own. In the hilt was a small red gem, and a detailed carving of a dragons head, held the small stone encased in the metal. This was a precious gift, and for many years brought her safety from bandits and unsavoury characters. She held onto it, much like you did your mother's sigil.

The stranger left her behind in her small village, Hunith didn't know that was the last she would see of her beloved, hope as much as anything kept her faith in him strong. As he rode into the shadows, a pack at his back and snow settling around him cloak, a hawk flew down and settled on his shoulder. As he rode away the hawk took flight and flew in his wake. The small bird flew with a purpose as it followed her beloved. It was a Merlin. Hunith tried to stay strong in the months that followed, but she found herself desperate and alone. Until four months after the strangers departure, she discovered that she was with child. She delighted on the babes existence, a reminder of the stranger and their love.

On the day of the babes birth, there was a heavy snow. It was the middle of November that he made his first presence in the world. After hours of waiting Hunith's child was born, a boy and a small one at that. The midwife told Hunith to not get attached to the babe, as it was unlikely he would survive that bitter night. Hunith sat that night, her baby in her arms. She wrapped him in as many blankets as she could find and took him with her as she walked to the place she last saw the stranger. The crooked trees lay coated with snow again and the winter whipped up the snowflakes in a dance of silver. As Hunith sat by the tree where they had parted, she cried, and her crystal tears ran over her sons face. She sat there for an indeterminable amount of time and held her child. As her baby began to stir, she looked up in time to see a shape fly at her. She wasn't shocked to feel the merlin land on her shoulder. Or to see it look down at here child with knowing eyes. It was then that the child himself opened his eyes and began to laugh at the bird. As the bird took flight again, a calm settled over her. She knew her baby would be fine. And for the bird who gave her hope, she named her child. Merlin.

Throughout his childhood Merlin heard only whispers about his father. His mother would tell him of his bravery and the courage he possessed; but the village scorned him. For Merlin, his childhood was spent ridiculed and teased. He was "Hunith's bastard boy", the only father he had known was the whispers of his mother, like wind through the trees, unable to be caught. Until he came to Camelot, a father was an unknown figure. His mother sent him to the great Camelot, to he met his first father. Gaius. The boy had never had a role model like him and their bond grew strong. Much like yours and his sire.

Little did he know, circumstances had that led him to Camelot, would also lead to the first and last meeting with his father. It was a year after coming to serve you that he met him, and under the most unfortunate of circumstances. A dragon was plaguing Camelot. There was but one solution that your father and Gaius could find. To find a Dragonlord. You sire left in hope to that he would save you. Merlin left in the knowledge that it was his father you were to meet."

Arthur jolted. He was unsure of how he could react to Merlin's life story. Through all of Iseldir's tale it had been as though it had been someone else's story, a far away person, someone unknown to him. But as the tale had become Merlin, and so close to him, to his friend, he had become anxious. He should have told him...Why didn't he tell him? He could have helped him, and his father? His father was Balinor? The last Dragonlord. Oh gods, how could Merlin stand to help him when his own father died? His own words echoed through his skull;  _no man is worth your tears Merlin._  He had told him to stop mourning his own father. And yet he had been with him, there to hold him, when Uther had died.  _I didn't want you to be alone_.

Arthur swallowed. "Why are you telling me this Iseldir?"

"Because, my young king, that is the beginning of Merlin's, and indeed this, tale. You may not know sire, but when a Balinor lay dieing in his newly discovered sons arms, he told him a secret. A secret passed from father to son. A secret, and his gift."

Arthur's eyes went wide, Merlin was a Dragonlord? He couldn't be, not Merlin. It was impossible, and far to close to magic. The King sat for a moment, a stunned silence falling over the clearing, and he began to back closer to the log he was leaning on. Elyan stirred slightly at his movement but Arthur just flinched away again and pulled Elyan closer.

"Why wouldn't he tell tell me Iseldir? Why would he keep something like this to himself? He trusts me," Arthur lowered his voice, "and I trusted him."

"My Lord, you  **must**  understand that Merlin has had no choice. Your father persecuted those with his fathers powers as harshly as he did the druids and those with magic itself. The race is nearly extinct, with only Merlin shouldering their legacy."

"I still killed the dragon Iseldir." Shock melted Arthur's features. "Didn't I?"

"No Sire," Iseldir sighed. "Merlin forbade him from ever attacking Camelot or her people. That if he returned with ill intent that Merlin would kill him."

If Arthur hadn't been sitting down he would have collapsed to the floor. Merlin had betrayed him. Merlin who they were looking for, searching relentlessly for. His closest friend. He had had the chance to rid Camelot of a horrific creature, and instead he let him go. The constant buzz of Merlin's personality however lingered in everything they learned. Of course the idiot would have shown mercy, should he have expected less? But the fact remained that Merlin had still turned to what Arthur feared the most and that terrified him. The betrayal stung with the bite of a blade.

Arthur now faced a choice. Did he continue the search for Merlin, with two injured men, or did he look for the dragon and hope that he would heal Elyan. Emotions flickered through the King and there were thoughts streaming through his head.

Arthur shook himself. He could do both, he had too. As much as Merlin had betrayed him, there was no way he could leave him to the mercy of Morgana. It would take the harshest of situations for him to abandon Merlin, and only if there was no option would he leave Elyan to die from this poison.

"Iseldir," Arthur breathed deeply, "where can we find the Dragons?"

* * *

Morgana Pendragon clutched her dress so the hem was off of the ground, she still had some decency, even if she was no longer a lady of the court. The walk was almost over and she was very happy. She had heard from her scouts in the dark woods that there had been one casualty and it was quite severe, the news made her happy, and the spells she had woven into those wounds no longer seemed a waste of her time.

Arthur was closer to the camp then she, but from what she understood, he was willing to divert his course to help Elyan and that gave her time. The spell was ready, wording finished and she had almost all of the ingredients for the magic. All she needed to complete the ritual was blood from Merlin.

Ceara was preparing him, making sure that his mind, and tongue were loose enough for her to gain her information and bring Camelot to her knees. But more importantly, to rid her of the thorn in her side.


	19. Arrival

Silence was the only sound that filled the clearing. Stars glittered in the sky above, lighting the dark blanket of night. There was nothing moving; even the turbulent winds had settled and the creaking boughs of ancient oaks had stopped. The atmosphere was tense; there was no dagger of sound to pierce the heavy silence. Eveything was waiting. The quartets of crickets had stilled their music and even the flickering shadows of moths, dancing around the flames, had stilled.

So when the silence was broken by the crackng of a stick underfoot, it was a startling sound. The air was once more ruffled when the canvas of a tent was pulled back, omitting a young, golden haired girl. There was no fear as Ceara trod over the leaf strewn ground, in fact with every step she took there was an energy of excitement about her. About halfway across the clearing she stopped and help her breath, listening intently to the night.

The sounds that followed betrayed the presence of the second person walking in the deathly silent darkness. The swish of fabric on leaves. The swift, yet subtle, footfalls of a practiced hunter. The treeline melted into the night and the blackness absorbed all trace of life. Not a light shone amongst the trees.

It was as Ceara looked closer into the rows of giants, that she saw the soft, eerie colour of alabaster skin. At first the ghostly figure moved tentativley, but there was a confidence in her step now. The spring as she bounced from ball to ball. Any who didn't know her true motives might believe that she was happy, but Ceara knew otherwise.

The moment that the dark witch entered the clearing, the pin was pulled on the illusion. The young woman's face was pulled at by shadows, drawn taunt across her bones and every crease thrown into sharp contrast. The haggard look only leant to Ceara's concern for her sister. Morgana looked tired. Her eyelids were heavy, every movement now appeared laboured and painful. Ceara broke the silence;

"Sister, you must rest. You have have been travelling for weeks now. Your journey has been long, hard and drainging for you."

"I will definatley say that it has been a long journey, but your reports tell me that the journey was not without reason. You have Merlin?"

"Yes, I have him. He has been...unyielding as to what determines the reason for his unwavering loyalty to the King. I have been in his memories. I became his memories, but he fought back. I left his mind and I was filled with so much pain..." Her face contorted, eyes squeezed shut. Morgana looked at the child's face, there was no pity in the icy blue eyes and she viewed her sister with no comfort or concern in her features. The moment Ceara's eyes reopened however, sisterly concern lit her pale face.

"I'm sorry for what you had to go through to look into his mind. I truly am ." Morgana lowered herself to her knees and pulled the trembeling child to her chest. She felt warm breath on her neck as the young girl breathed and nestled closer. In the moment where her eyes should be closed, desperate to comfort her little sister put, Morgana's eyes stayed open, brimming with contempt. Softening her tone Morgana spoke again.

"What did you find? In his mind, there must have been something that gives a clue as to how he has eluded me this long. How he has survived, despite my ceaseless efforts?"

"I have spent days in his mind, probing him with magic, manipulating his memories. I have been able to disscover his dead love, his childhood friends, his regrets and his devotion to Arthur. They all link to one another. They follow the same chain of guilt. He blames himself for them all. Every death, Uther's,the knights, his lover. He blames himself, for you as well, he believes he should have saved you, helped you through your magic, helped you understand." She trailed off. Morgana felt her face fall at Ceara's last words, but they brought old anger boiling to the surface.

"He could never understand! How could he even begin to understand the pain of growing up in that castle, surrounded by hatred of magic. Then to discover that you, too, have magic! Shunned, punished for no reason, rewarded with death for the uncontrollable nature of your gifts! Merlin could never hope to understand." The witches voice began to break up a little, as though she had an inesacpeable lump in her throat. The words caught on a lump in her throat and her words stuck with a dry edge.

"Is there something more Ceara?" Ceara swallowed. "What is it? Does he have other reasons to be able to thwart my plans? Tell me girl!" Morgana was getting impatient now, her breathing increased and her eyes became wilder. The meer thought that Merlin had an advantage, no matter how small, gave her blood a fiery edge. Ceara swallowed and averted her eyes, her hands began knotting together, pulling her skin over her knuckles and twisting as a nervous outlet. Morgana's tone had changed and it had made Ceara cautious of the witch's position with her, the sisterly tone had left and been replaced with vehement contempt.

"Merlin, my lady, is... he has magic." Morgana pulled at the sentence in her head, trying to worm out of believing it. Merlin surely didn't have magic, how could he? Merlin? Never.

"How long has he had it?"

"He has had it in all of his memories that I have looked through. I have sifted through memories back through his childhood and his early adulthood; he has been stopping you. He has broken through your attempts to kill the Prince, and the King. He is the foil to your attempts Morgana."

Images flickered through Morgana's mind, the fateful day that the battle would comence, the battle that would stain the grass red.

The sun shone in a bloody haze and its light fell over the dying and mutilated soldiers. Morgana watched as the men she recruited were slaughtered by the men in camelot red; flashes of their golden emblams glittered in the sea of blood. She was looking up from the ground. He was walking towards her, staff raised.

Morgana gasped, snapping back to the present with a painful speed. She turned her head to Ceara. Panic stricken she pulled herself together and asked;

"Is he the one? Is he the Emrys?"

"I could find no mention of that identity in his memories. He has no memory of being called by that name, or of acting under it. Isn't Emrys an old man? In the vision you shared he was an old, bearded and powerful man. Merlin is none of those things. He has some power, admittedly, but no measure to your's, sister." Morgana relaxed a little at the young girls reassuring tidings. She was wrong abut the conclusion she had made. Merin could never have been Emrys. The connection stopped with their eyes.

"Thank you Ceara. You have set my mind to rest. I am tired, hungry and on edge. I have, as you said, travelled far."

Morgana didn't look back to hear Ceara's reply, instead she walked towards the row of tents to their left. Ceara watched as the dark haired witch walked into the empty tent and said no more.

Merlin looked up as he heard voices outside his tent. Ceara greeted another with a quiet and clipped tone. Merlin could hear the conversation briefly, but with their footsteps the voices faded. The time that elapased was a mystery and the grasp on conciousness that he held slipped through his fingers. Ceara had pushed him hard today. Her usual taunts and methods had become harsher and they tore at him. She had run through his memories again, altering their contents and pulling at his fragmants of doubts. Each thread of doubt that he had, had been woven together over the pins of a loom. The blanket that she created smothered Merlin and he was slowly losing his will.

Ceara had let him believe in his failings and that was something even the great Emrys could not fight. Emrys was powerful magically, but mentally was Merlin. The young farm boy tugged at his bonds once again and they tightened against the frail skin that ridged and twisted from it's abuse.

The warlock turned his head to the voices as Ceara's tone changed and she became more frantic. The dread that filled Merlin at that moment was like a bucket of icy water had been thrown down his back. He had heard Morgana mention Emrys. He had tries to hide the memories of that name so that it wouldn't get back to Ceara. But what if she had worked it out? What if the magic he was using had slipped, even for a second, and revealed his name to the witches kin. However time elapsed and Merlin deduced that the lack of movement and immidiate interrogation revealed that his secret was safe for now.

Morgana could never know. If she ever found out about his name; all he had done against her; then he would not last for more than a few hours. Morgana could never know.

And with that thought trailing around his mind, Merlin let go of conciousness and plumetted into the darkness.

Arthur looked around the clearing that he found himself in. In front of him was a mountain, and in the chiselled side was a darkened cave. Iseldir looked across at the King and he pointed.

"That is where you might find the Great Dragon, my lord. From the last record we have of him, this is where he was. He is not too far from the young Dragonlord, should he call, and he also has access to the forests, lakes and river, should he ever need hunt."

"Thank you Iseldir, for bringing us this far. I must ask one last thing of you, if I may, before I start my climb." Arthur hesitated and looked over his shoulder to the other knights. "Could you look after Elyan and Gwaine until we get back? I will leave Percival with you as a defence, you may well need it in this wood, we have no idea what is in here."

"Of course sir. I will protect them with my life."

"Thank you Iseldir, I trust you to do what is best." That was the final wall to fall in Arthur's mind, and he vowed to himself that he would treat the druids with more would be more... understanding, relax the laws against the druids. There was hope for them.

Arthur set out towards the mountain and he walked with renewed sense of vigour and determination. He would find this Dragon, and it would help Elyan. Merlin would understand, if Merlin was a dragonlord, the Dragon would help them. It wasn't what Arthur wanted, to leave the other knights, but there was a hard climb ahead of them, and Gwaine could barely walk on flat ground. As for dragging Elyan up the mountain; it would kill him faster. Percival would be a good defence for the knights who couldn't defend themselves, and he could also provide some semblence of comfort for Iseldir. The druid could no doubt use magic to protect himself, but the druid elder was both passive and older than his prime. Arthur was proud of all of his knights, Elyan had been defending an innocent, Gwaine was fighting a foe in aid of Arthur, and Percival and Leon had not moved from their sides. They had earned a respect from him, that was rare, and valuable. Thoughts flowed like water. Maybe I should reward them.

Walking was giving the King too much time to think.

Leon walked beside his King and watched as emotions flickered across his face. Time was crawling by, but the land was moving fast beneath them as they pressed forward. Arthur was breaking a sweat as the grass turned to dry earth over stone. They continued to increase altitude, and their muscles burned, and pulled against their bones. Nothing broke the rythmic crunch as their boots shifted shingle and scree skultled down the slope behind them. It went by unsaid consent that they wouldn't talk, whether it was the idea that the act of talking would slow them down, or merely that they might ruin the tension that kept them alert and focused; silence was the key.

It was as the sun was setting that the knight and the King reached the cave. The ground was dirty, more with dust than mud, but the underlying stone surface gaped through. Where tear like drops of water fell from the mouth of the cave, streaks of bare rock was revealed. The cave itself was forboding. The outer rim was jagged, framing the darkness within like the maw of a bear. Deep set into the floor were gouges, deep and wide. Each was filled with shadow, cast from the rigdes of the rock. Arthur's heart began beating faster.

The King steeled himself, then stepped into the abyss. Into the Dragon's den.


	20. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people, I've been working on this in my Wednesday afternoon frees, so it is quite long, but it is the meeting of the dragon and the king... anyway most of it is Arthur, and the tiny bit at the end is Merlin, purely because it was 2200 and something words without Merlin...
> 
> Anyway enjoy and don't forget to drop a review x 
> 
> This is from an earlier update on ff.net

Arthur stepped into the cave and was met with a warm, musty smell. It was much akin to the smell of charring meat, slightly putrified. The cave floor was solid, almost compressed, and had a smooth, hard edge. The air was heavy, and damp, filling their nostrils with smoke. In the depths of the cave, there was a shimmer, flickering across the stone walls. Every few minutes the faerie lights would dance and skitter as the great scales expanded with the beasts barreled chest. Arthur and Leon drew closer together and rested their hands on the pommels of the swords at their waists. The King broke the enchanted silence; he called to Leon in the darkness;

"Behind me." The shuffle of the knights feet as he took his position behind Arthur was amplified.

As the knights made their way into the cavernous room the temperature dropped and the sweat that oiled their limbs chilled them. It was as they expected as the temperatue fell, but the currents of air that brushed over their skin was an unsettling thing. Of course they had known that the great Dragon was in the darkness, but the poximity was only now hitting them. Nerves rose up in the King as the distance between the creature and himself reduced.

"Leon, are you ok?"

"Yes sire, what do you think it will do?"

"I don't Leon. This makes me nervous, I don't know what it will do"

"What if it can't, or won't, help? Sire."

"I think all we can do is hope Leon. There is nothing that we would be able to do, should he be unwilling to help. I keep thinking of the last time that our parties met." Arthur grimaced. "Those days still stalk my dreams."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two and they looked at one another in remembrance. The days that had been filled with the misery, pain and fear had be a direct result of this creature.

The hushed conversation settled into silence as the memories plagued them. Their slow progression forward brought them to a large chamber in the caves. The high ceiling rose as tall as the tower at Camelot's castle. It was as chiseled into as the precipice of a tower would be; though the elegance was somewhat rougher. Pictures were carved into the side; epic battles of the dragons, with one another and with people. One particular carving caught the King's eye, it was larger than the rest. Shadows graced the rockface lowlighting the shadows of the carving, depth forced the scene from the wall. The scene itself featured two dragons, pitted against each other, much like many others, but it wasn't that which enthralled the King; it was the riders.

Sat in the crests of the great Dragons shoulders was a person, dressed in robes of a king, but with eyes of a dragon. Mouth hanging open the young king drew his eyes away from his face and to the other. Though the other was also garbed finely, there were traces of the darkness on his robes. Below the dragons a human battle was in full torrent and the depth of the notches made were deeper and shadows pooled like blood around the dragons feet. The message was difficult for Arthur to accept. Time was a mystery, but surely there shouldn't be dragons defending the people of each battle? How could a creature as evil as a dragon wouldn't the villages. Why would these...people ride on the dragons to fight?

Arthur burned with questions as he looked away from the carving to the large golden dragon, that was spread across the cave floor. Even with the giant lizard laid out full length, several more would be able to fit in the cave comfortably. The scale of the gaping chasm was something that the king had only seen once in his life. As a child he had walked into a cavern under the castle. Now that he thought back, the smell blanketed him in that room as well. Though he had never disclosed his discovery to Uther, he knew that there was something that wasn't quite right.

Arthur and Leon walked towards the glittering reptile, grimacing as it's breath tugged their hair, blowing it into their eyes. It wasn't long before they were within ten feet from it, watching the folded wings twitching. A growl rumbled through the cave and both knights of Camelot leapt back. Hearts racing as they watched as it adjusted itself and slipped back into sleep. Looking across to each other, an agreement to never speak of how they had been scared by a snoring dragon was sealed.

"How are we going to wake it up without it frying us?" Arthur whispered.

"How are you woken up, sire? I imagine you have the fury of a sleeping dragon when Merlin tries to wake you up."

"I am most...agreeable, sire Leon. Who have you been talking to? If it's that idiot manservant of mine, you know his head if filled with more rubbish than a milkmaids gossip!"

"No one sire, it was just an observation of your keen senses."

"Honestly Leon, I would never have suspected you to be having this conversation with me. I would only expect Merlin or Gwaine to be so impertinent towards me."

"I mean no disrespect, sire."

"Then what exactly do you mean Leon?" Arthur raised his voice and lowered his sword.

"Sire..."

"What is it Leon? If it is to comment upon my apparent aggression then I am not inclined to hear it!"

"No sire it's not that,"

"Well spit it out then. I'm sorry Leon, this whole journey has me on edge."

"The dragon sire, it's breathing has changed."

"Wh-" Arthur had the words knocked out of him as he hit the floor. A glance at Leon showed that he was equally positioned, and before he could piece anything else together, they were pinned down by a large, muscled tail.

The young king attempted to push the tail off of himself, but it proved incredibly difficult. As he looked up from his hands, he was met with the steely gaze of a dragon. Mouth dropping in shock, Arthur was rendered speechless by the sight before him. Golden eyes stared deep into the the king's soul. Time seemed to melt into an undetermined mass as eons of knowledge filled the dragon's eyes.

"Young King. Why have you sought me in this manner?" The ancient voice rang through the darkness, echoing around the walls. The Great Dragon lowered his head slightly and looked at the King.

"You can talk?" Arthur was completely thrown as a rough, rumbling sound was emitted by the dragon. It took him a few moments to realise that it was laughing, not choking.

"Yes, I can speak, young King. I am not a common beast with a useless tongue in my head. I can speak and comprehend that which you wouldn't believe. Now, tell me, why are you here, interrupting my sleep?"

"I'm firstly here to appologise. The last time we met, it was not on the most friendly of grounds, but I have heard that you have helped Camelot in the past. I am applogising not only for my behaviour, but also for that of my father. He was wrong to persecute your kind, I would like to extend the courtesy I am extending the druids, to you. Will you accept my pardon?"

The dragon stopped for a moment and looked at the king in disbelief.

"For many years I have been waiting to hear that you are relaxing your opinion; for not all is set in stone. Your destiny is becoming clearer, young King, and I hope I can be here to see that day. So yes, I will except this pardon, if you will accept mine. I also regret the brash way I acted. Uther was merciless, I watched as flames and blood enveloped my ancestors, my family and my hatchlings. My nest-mate was murdered in the black king's rampage. I watched as all I cared about burned. When I was imprisoned, I let my rage fester. The rage of a dragon is not to be teased, young King. I wanted to take my revenge. I realise now, that the people who I burned, did not deserve to be burned. I lowered myself to Uther's level. If you will allow me, I will swear to you, the Once and Future King, I will only attack your enemies, I will remain faithful to you. However, I cannot swear I will be at your every whim, for a dragon is meant to be free. Will you, Arthur Pendragon, accept my alligence?"

Arthur's mouth fell open with shock and he had to shake himself to bring him back to the present. As he looked up, over the sinuous tail, he saw that the great head was bowed to him. Stuttering Arthur made his reply,

"Yes- I will accept your allegiance, for you have regrets that burden you even now."

"Thank you, young King. Am I understood that you are bound to your oath?"

"Yes, Great Dragon, last of your kind, you have my word."

"It is Kilgharah, young King."

"Then it is Arthur, Great Dragon."

"As you wish, Arthur. Now will you tell me why you are here?"

"It's a long story. Please could you let us up? We don't have much time."

"Sorry, youn-Arthur."

Arthur sucked in a deep breath as the tail was moved off of his chest. Though he hadn't realised it, he had been taking in less oxygen then he needed. Spots floated across his vision as he stood, wobbling a little.

"Before I start, I have to tell you that we know that Merlin is a Dragonlord."

The mighty dragon shifted in his position,

"Why did he chose to reveal his heritage now, if I may ask?"

"He didn't tell us, he isn't with us. It was the druid Iseldir who told us about him."

"Why isn't he by your side? What have you done?" The dragon's rage filled the cavern, "Did you act rashly, as he always feared you would? Tell me, King, that I haven't placed my faith in you mistakenly?"

Taken aback by the drastic change in the dragon's tone.

"He was kidnapped, Kilgharah. We are following his trail." The dragon visibly relaxed, rellieved that he had not revealed any more of the warlocks power in a mistaken rage.

"What happened? How long as he been missing, and who is it who has him? Despite your knowledge, Arthur, he is a valuable beyond all that you know. To my race, and many others, he is a savior. If anything were to happen... I dare not think of the consequences. So King Arthur, what has happened?"

Set back slightly, the blonde king readjusted himself and began to tell the tale of the warlock's kidnap. The dragon made only the smallest movements through Arthur's speech and when he got to the recollection of the dark forest a low growl issued from deep within his chest.

"Why did you risk the woods, young king? He has been missing for days yes, but those woods could have killed you all. He can take care of himself, He is not as incompetant as he seems to you."

"I know Kigharah, I know he is capable of defending himself. He is the one who brings the best out of us all. We owe it to him to try and get to him as quickly as we can."

"Then we have to find him." Kilgaharah said, bowing his great head again to meet the King's eyes. "What is the reason that you came to me though young King? I know that you are capable of defending yourself, and getting to him. So why hunt for me, why risk my anger?"

"We searched for you because on our passage through the forest, Elyan was hurt. The druid Iseldir is travelling with us, but he knows of only one cure for the sting of the serket. According to druidic ledgend, the cure is with the dragons, and they may only grant it if they wish." Arthur paused to catch his breath and collect his nerve. "We came to beg audience and ask for your help in curing him. I diverted our journey from Merlin because I couldn't leave him. If he were to die, I would never forgive myself because it was my choice to use the dark woods. So please, great dragon, will you help save my knight?"

Leon watched in trepidation as the dragon made no reply. The cavern had fallen quite silent as the creature decided what to do.

"I will sire. I can help your friend, and I will also help you rescue the young dragonlord."

"Thank you Kilgaharah, I'm sorry for the wrong doings that Camelot has done to you."

"Don't thank me, take me to your knight."

"Wake up Merlin. It's time to play." Morgana threw the icy bucket over Merlin's head and he quaked in his chains. "Isn't this so like the last time you were in my cabin? Do you remember Merlin? I hear that some of your memories have been a little clouded lately. Thankfully mine haven't and I'm going to help bring yours back."

Reaching behind him, Morgana deftly pulled the kneckerchief from his pale throat.

"Dear, dear Merlin, I have always wondered what sort of impression I have left on you," pale fingers traced an icy line along the scar. "Though it does appear quite obvious."

"What do you want Morgana? I've told Ceara that she will never learn Camelot's secrets from me"

Smiling the young witch replied, "I know Camelot's secrets, I know the ins and outs of the royal court. I know every inch of that castles defence and weakness. But a castle needs a King Merlin."

Merlin swallowed. Morgana stepped gracefully behind Merlin, pushing his head forward. Pushing against her hand, Merlin struggled.

"And every King has a weakness."

A blade was rested on the faint scar under the serving boy's collor.

"You are his as he is yours."

The sharp metal slid into the thin skin. Drawn across in a line.

"You are the key that saves me breaking the lock."

Merlin scrunched up his nose as he winced.

"But I will break you."

She twisted the blade, and Merlin screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, thank you to all if you amazing people who reviewed, followed and favorited :) I appologise for spelling errors, I have no spell check on this tablet :)
> 
> Thanks again
> 
> Phoenix x
> 
> PS VERY IMPORTANT! My friends and I are once again planning on competing in GISHWHES this year. If anyone wants to join our tea,, message me! :) If you don't know what GISHWHES is here you go https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Am5WFvNcIo


	21. An Oath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, I'm still writing the next chpt, but this at least is a start. Sorry for the wait xxxx

Merlin's scream died in his throat as the witch pulled the blade free of his neck. The pain was bearable and he was damned sure he wasn't going to let her win. Ceara's meddling in his mind had left him weak, but he could feel his magic building in his heart. The drug was wearing off now and escape was closer than ever before. The king was on his way, he could sense it. Arthur was a pig-headed fool, and one who was not about to give up on a mission no matter how reckless it was. Momentarily Merlin was able to forget where he was, and what was happening, though not for long.

Morgana moved ahead of him, preparing for her next interrogation. There was no end to what she would do to him to break his spirit and his soul. Merlin had at least one secret over her though; she didn't know who he was. He was gathering his strength now, pulling himself together to form a resistance to her onslaught. The flame flickered inside of him once more and he was nurturing it now, blowing on it gently and building its strength. He would defeat her, once this drug was out of him. Looking up and wincing as he pulled the congealed blood from the wound in his neck, Merlin watched as she picked up a small jar and met his eyes with a malicious grin.

"Are you excited Merlin, this is the first time that I have brought this out, I've never had cause to use it until now." Smiling she pulled out a small vial, and a cloth. "This is a fast acting, non-fatal poison Merlin, it is however excruciating."

Stepping forward she dabbed the vial to the cloth and leant towards Merlin. Wiping the cloth over his mouth, her eyes lit with delighted malice as he began to groan and sob as the acid ate away at his skin. Laughing Morgana moved to dribble the acid over the open cut on his face. The combination of his restraints and his intense pain, the warlock began to scream. His pain fuelled Morgana and before he could struggle she had his head pushed down and was dripping the vicious poison onto his open wound.

An unearthly scream ran through Merlin's body, tearing its way past his bloody lips and filling the little hovel with his pain. The poison had entered his bloodstream and he could feel the snakes of fire slide through his veins.

"Please Morgana." Merlin panted, voice hoarse. "Please stop this, what has happened to you?"

"Merlin, you don't understand do you? You did this, from the moment you turned your back on me, and you killed my sister. We were friends Merlin, allies." Turning her back on Merlin she snarled. "You are the reason for this Merlin."

The warlock didn't have time to brace himself as the witch snapped around and threw a ball of magic at him. Merlin fell loose in his chains and welcomed the darkness that would follow.

The dragon landed with the force of a small explosion shaking the ground around him and spraying dust into the air. Arthur scrambled to grab hold of the mighty spike that sat in front of him and lunged to the side to prevent himself being impaled on it. Though he would never admit it, the king had never been so nervous in his life. The ground had swept away from under him and he had watched on in fear as they hurtled though the air. Merlin would call him a control freak who could never give up his grip on reality, even if it would make his life easier. Arthur would, of course, disagree for it would be a narrow minded king indeed to completely disregard the opinions of others. Though, he had to admit now that there was some truth in Merlin's observations. There was such a fountain of wisdom in the young man, it stunned Arthur sometimes. He didn't know what he would do without him.

The dragon turned his head around to face the King and the knights.

"Is this your camp young King?"

Nodding as conformation, Arthur lent forward to dismount as he would a horse, but forgot how high above the ground he was, and found himself dangling from the spine of the great creature in a most un-kingly way. Coughing he attempted to draw the attention of the dragon or his knights. His subtlety was lost however as he heard the hooting laughter of Gwaine from his perch on the floor.

"You've recovered then."

"Not really Princess, but I couldn't pass up an opportunity like this." Biting into an apple he grinned and nodded at the dragon, "You found him then, can he help?"

"I can help your friend Sir Knight. And I will help you get Merlin back; gods know that boy has gotten himself in more than enough trouble. From what the king has told me, we must hurry to cleanse the poison from your friend's body."

Gwaine watched in shock as the dragon reached around and grabbed Arthur by the back of his shirt and lowered him to the ground. He lifted his leg to let the other knight of Camelot disembark with more dignity.

"Where is your friend?"

"This way," Gwaine gestured to the shadowed area of the clearing. Percival was bent over the quivering knight, wiping his brow with a rag. "He's in a bad way. Please help him."

Bowing his great head, Kilgharrah looked past the pained Gwaine and into the shadow where Percival sat over the body of Elyan.

"Please move aside young knights." Snaking his head around to a level with Elyan's, the golden beast drew a deep breath. Arthur pulled Excalibur from it's scabbard and moved into a defensive position as he anticipated the flames from the dragon's maw. But none came, instead a torrent of glittering light billowed to their fallen comrade, enveloping him in a cloud of magic. The sallow pallor of Elyan's hollow face faded into a normal hue, the days of travelling that lay heavy lifted away. Shallow breathing levelled into a deeper, healthy motion and the young knight stirred. Pain melted from the man's posture as he relaxed into a deepened sleep. Gaping Arthur sheathed Excalibur as he gazed in shock as his comrade's veins cleared of the black spider-like poison.

"Thank you!" Arthur's voice was filled with reverence as he took in the miracle that had just been performed before him. His jubilation was short lived however as the his worry for Elyan cleared and the crushing reality of Merlin's fate settled in his heart. "How long do we have until we can move him. We have to start moving on to find Merlin, he could be in real trouble Kilgharrah."

"When he wakes he will be able to move. I have cleared him of the infection, but a sizeable wound will remain. Treat him as you would any other injured man. He will need sleep, I have purged his body very quickly, for a non magic being he will be unused to the level of magic he has experienced."

"Thank you again Kilgharrah, that leaves us with the matter of Gwaine to see to." Frowning the King cast his eye to the raven haired knight who was bending over the sleeping figure. Turning to the dragon once more Arthur was tentative in his request. "You have already done so much for us, but can I ask one more favour before we continue our quest to find Merlin. Can you heal Gwaine? He will follow us no matter what, and he will slow us down. He is loyal to Merlin, and is a good fighter, we may need him. I can't very well leave him here, and it is vital we move too."

"Young King, I can not heal just anybody, I sense your desperation and also his loyalty. Merlin needs as many allies as he can have, things will be revealed that will shake loyalties to the core in the time to come."

"I understand, you can't help him."

"You misunderstand, if you can make me an oath, one that will pivot the young man's life, I will heal him. You're oath to me will hold the healing in place, if you break it, my healing will be revoked and his state might be worse than before."

Arthur swallowed looking back to the knight on the floor hovering over Elyan. "What must I swear to?"

"You must swear that when the time comes you must maintain an open mind. The matter will be delicate, and in order to save the knight and Merlin, you must listen as well as you fight."

"How will I know the time is to listen?"

"You will know, and I will sense it young King."

"Why would you hold my knights' life in the balance, we have shown you no ill will."

"Know this King Arthur, I will do anything to protect my Dragonlord. Even if I must balance the life of an innocent man over a knife."

Arthur frowned and straitened, "Protect him from what? What threatens him that I can't protect him from?"

A rumble groaned in the mighty beast's chest, looking right into the King's eyes he spoke with earth shattering clarity. "I must protect him from you Arthur Pendragon."

Silence echoed between them.

"Do you agree to the oath, do you agree to keep an open mind when the time comes?"

Eyes closed and head bowed King Arthur pondered the dragon's words. What could possibly make him a threat? Raising his head Arthur lifted his eyes and with solemn certainty he sealed the oath.

Bowing his own head the Great Dragon stepped forward and touched his snout to the dark haired knight's temple. Golden light surrounded the pair and Gwaine collapsed to his injured knees. Succumbing to sleep, Gwaine's injuries melted into new skin and his skin flushed with colour. Pain ebbed away from his face and the Great Dragon ended the spell.

Turning to the King, Kilgharrah nodded, spread his wings and soared off towards his mountain home. As he left, Arthur heard the dragon's voice in his head, Should you need me later, all you must do is ask the knight to call me. My magic runs in his veins, I will hear him.

A feeling of foreboding settled in the Pendragon's stomach and he touched his face as a phantom pain twitched his lip. Sighing he turned back to his knights and started to pack up their camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My A-levels are in a few short weeks so this will be updated after them. Please let me know if you want to do GISHWHES with us :)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N So what did you think? I know this chapter is short but they do get longer, I promise :) I have the next chapters ready to post so they should be out quite frequently :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading
> 
> Phoenix


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